Jump in Time
by Viridis Lupus
Summary: After discovering a mysterious crystal cave, Merlin and Arthur find themselves catapulted forward into the future. There, they encounter the foreign culture of modern day life and have to work out how to survive.
1. The Jump

**Author's Note - Okay, so I know there have been a few of these but I have decided mine's going to be the best *cough* *cough*. In essence, this is set after the series that has just finished and A & M go to the future. Hopefully won't be to cheesy. I gurantee it will be interesting. :) **

**Btw, its not like the AU ones where the whole cast is put in a high school community or whatever. Its actually them going forwards in time and then thinking 'What the f*** is going on....'**

The cavern was dark and smelt ancient; a thousand or two's inhabitants having left their distinctive scents behind. It was difficult to see anything past a few inches in front of your nose. That was if you looked straight into the depths of the cave, if you looked back behind you then you could see the entrance and the rushing water that concealed it. Not only could you see the water but you could hear it gushing over the rocks and pummelling the ground below; the sound reverberated around the cave – a constant companion.

A few remaining small creatures scuttled about in the shadows.

Advancing further into the quickly blackening space, the noise of the waterfall grew quieter, more muffled but the darkness grew. It was hard to know where the cavern ended; for all you knew it could be several hundred feet back or just one step away. You had to make a judgement call on whether to progress – use senses other than sight in order to perceive your surroundings. Touch was the most useful. As you reached out with your hands you felt momentarily hopeless, a blind man falling through space, and then you touched the cave wall and all was well again.

The wall was damp to the fingertips and coated with slime, no doubt caused by the cascading water outside. There was no way of deciphering what exactly the substance was because of the lack of light. For now it would be left unnamed.

However, the slime slowly disappeared as you moved along the wall and the rock became drier and rougher as it bent. The turning was almost imperceptible and would probably have been missed without careful inspection. It was a passageway into another chamber of the cavern. A secret cranny just waiting to be explored.

"Ow!" a voice yelped with surprise and pain.

A sigh. "What happened?"

"I smashed my bloody nose on a bloody rock."

"Well that wasn't very intelligent."

"Excuse me, but it was hardly my fault. If _someone_ had remembered to bring a torch then it wouldn't have happened." The reply managed to be both indignant and accusing at the same time.

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" A mock-surprised tone laced with amusement. "I did bring a torch."

"Then why didn't you light the damn thing. Sometimes, Merlin, you can be a complete idiot."

"I wasn't the one who walked into a wall." The retort was smart and no doubt irritating but before any attempt at a reply could be made, just at that moment, the fire burst into life and the, once dark, space was now completely illuminated.

Two young men stood in the sudden brightness and squinted, trying to adjust to the change in environment. Once they had recovered, they both stared at one another; one with a glare and the other with a smile twitching at his lips. However, his smile faded when he saw the state that his friend was in.

Arthur's nose was grotesque in the shimmering flames, swollen and bleeding. Merlin was astonished as to how much damage he could do to himself by literally just walking into a wall. He must have head-butted the rock to do that much harm; he looked as if he'd just taken an extremely hard punch to the nose or perhaps been kicked in the face by a horse. Either one and he wouldn't have faired much worse. Padding slowly over to the injured man, the manservant tentatively raised a hand to prod the fast inflating nose.

"_Oi_, don't do that." Arthur shoved him away, still glowering though this time Merlin wasn't sure whether he was mad at him or the pain.

"Sorry…about the torch thing," Merlin mumbled.

"It's fine. Now can we go and then maybe I can get this sorted out back at the castle."

Merlin was torn, on the one hand he knew that Arthur needed medical treatment for that wound was undoubtedly painful, but on the other he desperately wanted to explore that passageway. It had some kind of power over him, enticing him in like a charmer to a snake. It wasn't a want, it was a physical _need_.

"Um…" he said, "You go on outside and maybe splash some cold water on that to reduce the swelling. I'll be out in a minute."

As soon as he'd spoken, Merlin felt bad because he saw Arthur's face fall. He was hurt that his manservant wasn't helping him. The young man almost changed his mind but then the urge was there again – he had to explore that passage.

Needing to clarify why he was staying behind and deserting his friend, Merlin said, "I dropped my…clasp from my cloak. It must have fallen off." Satisfied with the excuse, the prince nodded and, still tipping his head forward in an effort to ease the flow of blood, he left.

Excited, the young warlock entered the secret chamber.

This chamber was smaller and perfectly circular in shape. But that wasn't what caught the warlock's attention as he walked in. No. What had his attention was the fact the whole space was sparkling – like millions of the stars in the night sky had been trapped in this little place. He had to blink several times to understand what was going on and even then he found it hard to believe his eyes. The cave was full of crystals. Crystals that were illuminated by the flickering flames of his torch and threw hundreds of light rays off in different directions creating the illusion of stars.

Merlin's eyes widened with complete amazement.

Stepping cautiously into the centre of the circular space, he spun on the spot taking in all the beautiful crystals that were bejewelling the rocky walls. Leaning over to one side, he carefully felt one of the glittering stones and found they were strangely warm to the touch. Overcome with curiosity, the young man gripped the crystal harder and tugged, gently at first but then with more force. The stone cracked and came away from the wall in a piece about the size of a plum. It wasn't completely spherical in shape but relatively close. The warlock stared in awe at the rare stone in his palm.

It was then that something else caught his eye. There was an engraving on the wall. His interest piqued once more, Merlin hurried over to read the words written there, the crystal still clasped tightly in his hand. His heart quickened with excitement when he realised what it was: a spell.

Without thinking, Merlin began to read.

* * *

Arthur had waited a couple of minutes for his friend, bathing his hot, painful nose in the cool, clear water. It was a nice sensation and the searing sensation subsided to a less acute but still painful throb. He could now think clearly once again. As he did think, he realised that his manservant didn't even have a clasp on his cloak. So what was he still doing inside the cave then?

Confused and more than a little annoyed, the prince rose to his feet from his crouched position on the bank and walked, purposefully, through the gap behind the waterfall that led to the cave. He was quiet with his footfalls so he could catch Merlin at whatever he was doing before he could hide it.

At first, he couldn't see the boy anywhere but then he noticed a strange, shimmering light issuing from a small crevice in the wall to his left. Now quite perturbed as to what had happened to his servant, the man walked towards to ethereal light and gave up all pretences of trying to be sneaky.

"Merlin?!" he called, loudly. "Merlin?" There was an edge of anxiety to his usually assured voice. "Merlin, where are you? If you don't get here within the next minute you're fired."

No reply.

Arthur slipped through the gap.

And then the world dissolved in a blinding, white flash.

* * *

Face down - that was how he landed, with his cheek resting on familiarly soft grass. He inhaled slowly, the scent of freshly cut grass assaulting his nostrils. It was as he breathed in, however, that the pain returned and his nose burned. Opening his eyes and sitting up, Arthur winced, trying to ignore the building agony. It felt as if his head was about to explode. He must have landed on it funny when he fell, he deduced.

Hang on…when did he fall? And since when did a cave have a grass floor? Bewildered, Arthur looked around him and saw that he was surrounded by some trees and some flowers, a fence or two. To his right was what looked like a small lake with a couple of ducks quacking merrily on the surface. He decided he must be somewhere near the village for he could hear people's voices but how did he get here? Maybe he fainted and Merlin carried him here. Now that would be embarrassing. But then where was his manservant?

Merlin was no where to be seen. Arthur half hoped that he would pop out from behind one of the trees and laugh because he had tricked his master into fretting. Somehow though, the prince knew that that wasn't going to happen, no matter how much he hoped.

Instead of Merlin, he saw a small child wander down a path, which seemed to have strangely been put in the middle of the field, and reach out towards the ducks. She squealed in delight when they quacked at her and swam closer. Considering how far she was leaning over the lake, Arthur was worried that she was going to lose her balance and topple in. Fortunately, just at that moment, a woman came over to her and caught the back of her shirt. She was chuckling and smiling whilst the girl reached up to her wanting to be lifted. The woman was quite pretty, Arthur registered, with very shiny hair the colour of mahogany and…wait a minute….why on earth was she wearing trousers?

Just before Arthur could think anything more of it, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped round to come face to face with a tall man with a short crop of brown hair. The man was dressed all in white.

"Oi, mate, d'you mind moving off the pitch? We have a cricket match and you're in the way." The stranger had an odd accent and the way he said things was bizarre but Arthur understood him. Well, apart from a couple of words: like cricket?

"Aw damn, look at his face, he's been in the wars." Another fellow had joined them, his expression sympathetic.

"Hey, mate, I think you need to go to hospital," the first man said, offering him a hand up. Arthur didn't take it.

Hospital? What on earth?

"I don't think he understands you, Ned. Maybe he's got concussion or something. Should we call an ambulance?"

"Um…that might be a good idea."

Quite a crowd had formed by now and poor Arthur was sat in the middle of it, in pain and completely and utterly befuddled. People were asking him questions but he couldn't reply, his brain just wasn't cooperating and it wasn't like they were easy to understand in the first place. Though he did understand one thing and that was that they had mentioned a doctor and he thought that was a good idea. They'd also mentioned he'd been in a fight, he wouldn't correct them, it was better than walking into a wall any day.

A weird, high pitched noise reached the prince's ears and he winced. What in god's name…?

"Ah, the ambulance is here. It's all right, mate, they'll fix you up. By the way, what's your name?" Ned asked.

"Arthur," Arthur replied, dazed as two people dressed in green rushed up to him, "Arthur Pendragon."

**I hope you think I have them in character. Please, review!**


	2. Hospital

**Author's Note - Thank you very much to MagicbyMerlin and static-as-you-walk-away for their reviews! Here is your chapter! Sorry for the lack of Arthur or Merlin but I'm trying to get you to know my characters too. It will get better!**

The doors of Alderry Hospital banged open and a silver trolley, complete with patient, rolled into the entrance hall. Either side of the trolley were two paramedics, dressed in bright green, one of which was reeling off a list of stats for the doctor who had just joined them. The doctor in question, Dr. John Pollen, nodded in reply and then found his eyes wandering down to the patient who was struggling on his metal bed. He glanced up questioningly at his colleagues when he caught sight of the straps which attached the man to the hand rail.

"We had to restrain him," the female paramedic informed him.

"Yeah, he was kicking up a fuss. We couldn't even get him into the ambulance at first. He was angry and confused, didn't know what was going on." The other paramedic added, earnestly. His brown eyes flicked from his patient and away again, as if slightly embarrassed. Then he glanced at his companion and the two of them shared a knowing look.

As they continued down the corridor, shoes squeaking on the shiny floor that had just been mopped by the cleaners, they had to make sure that people dodged out of the way of the oncoming group otherwise they would be mown down. A small boy had to be dragged from beneath the wheels as he wandered across its path in order to reach the vending machine. His mother admonished him severely.

"I think, after you've got his nose fixed up, that he might need a psyche consult."

Dr. Pollen looked puzzled. "Why? Just because he doesn't want to be here doesn't mean he's crazy."

"You would say that but wait until you hear what comes out of his mouth," the female paramedic, Jenny, replied. As if on cue, the young man on the trolley struggled against his bindings even more, his sky blue eyes alight with irritation and disbelief.

"Unhand me, you idiots. Do you know who I am?" He left a pause as if to add dramatic effect. "I'm Prince Arthur of Camelot. My father is the king: King Uther. If you do not let me go then I will be forced to take serious measures."

The two paramedics raised their eyebrows and looked at Dr. Pollen as if to say 'I told you so'.

"We confiscated this from him," Jenny held up a scabbard in which was an old fashioned looking sword. "I have no idea where he got it from. Anyway, Prince Arthur is the only name he'll give and I sorely doubt whether that's his real one so hospital records are going to be a bitch."

"Well, we'll just have to do this the old fashioned way then, won't we?" Dr. Pollen said, "And ask him his history. Now, come on, cubicle two. Out the way." He directed the last statement at a girl who was hovering by the admittance desk and she leapt out of the way instantly. Glancing curiously at the still ranting man on the trolley.

The curtains were pulled back along their rails and the patient was wheeled in and parked up against the wall. He scowled at his captors, his face dark with anger. As the paramedics left, Dr. Pollen sent a nurse to bring some equipment and drew up a seat beside the man before he brought out a clipboard.

"So...Arthur," the doctor said slightly apprehensively, "When were you born?"

"Twenty-one years ago."

Dr. Pollen paused for a moment, doing his maths. "Okay, so you were born in 1988?"

"No." Arthur frowed. "I was born in Camelot."

"Yes, but what was the date?"

The young man looked suitably baffled, sitting on his trolley with scarlet blood trickling slowly from his swollen nose. Dr. Pollen was glad to see that the speed of the flow was slowing down meaning they probably wouldn't have to do a transfusion. Arthur's face was pale around the wound and a pair of wonderfully black eyes were forming. That usually happened when a nose was damaged badly.

"Um..." Arthur half shook his head. "I don't know the meaning of the word...'date'?"

It was the doctor's turn to be perplexed. How could a man of over twenty years not know what a date was? It was absurd. Perhaps, he should be noting this down as part of a degenerative disease or mental illness. Instead, the man decided to persist and see if he could discover more which would help in the diagnosis.

Just at that moment the nurse wandered in and began trying to attach an IV to the patient's arm. He was having none of it however and wrenched out of her grip, glaring fiercely at her. The doctor noticed he had taken up a defensive position. The nurse turned to Dr. Pollen and gave him a questioning look. He shrugged. "Just leave it for now, Molly."

"But his nose?"

"Later. He'll be okay." Molly left.

"Arthur, a date is...a date is..." He struggled for the words to explain. "The way you describe a day in the year. You know, by the day, the month and the year. Today is 15th January 2009."

"I was born in the winter," Arthur said.

Dr. Pollen could see he wasn't going to get any further. That would have to do. "Okay. Do you have any medications you're currently on? Or a condition we should know about?"

He received a blank expression in return.

"Right, um...are you allergic to anything?"

"I've had enough of this questioning. I must return home. My father will be wondering where I am. Can you give me directions to the castle from this place? What do you call it: a hospital?" Arthur attempted to get off the trolley but was restricted by the restraints. He tugged at them angrily. "And will you let me go? My father will hear about this mistreatment of a prince."

"Sir, just sit back down, please. I need to see to your nose now."

Dr. Pollen began pulling on his gloves and then picked up his antiseptic wipes.

"Now let me just..."

* * *

It was a battle. To get the newest admission to Alderry Hospital sorted out. He wasn't happy with the treatment and wanted to leave as soon as possible but the doctor wouldn't allow it. Eventually, his nose was cleaned up and it turned out that fortunately, the bone wasn't broken, just fractured. When Dr. Pollen had asked how the injury had occurred Arthur had become abnormally quiet, this caused the doctor to assume that perhaps he'd been doing something illegal or maybe been in a fight and lost. He seemed like the kind of man that would be embarrassed about that.

He'd also asked his patient whether he could contact any relatives for him. Arthur had told him, of course, he could get his father. Once again, Dr. Pollen had asked for a name and had received the same ridiculous reply: King Uther Pendragon. In fact, the physician still hadn't been able to get Arthur's actual name out of him. Guessing, judging by the fact that Arthur always react to 'Arthur', Dr. Pollen thought his name was most likely to be Arthur but for his surname, that was another kettle of fish.

After he had left his patient in the cubicle, the doctor headed over to the admittance desk to order a psyche consultation. He had deduced, after all this persistent and patient questioning, that the young man in his care needed to be transferred to that area of the medical profession. Maybe they could find out who exactly he was.

"Are you letting me go now?" Dr. Pollen jumped as he heard Arthur's voice calling from behind his curtain. "Because, to be honest, I have better things to be doing than hanging around this place."

"Um....just a little bit longer," the doctor replied and then shook his head. It was strange how lucid the man seemed to be and yet so mad at the same time.

What he also found strange was the way in which he spoke. His language was much more guttural, foreign sounding even. Yes, it was English, but a sort of old fashioned version that you sometimes heard in plays by Shakespeare or the like. Well, if the youth believed himself to be the infamous Arthur Pendragon then perhaps he'd gone to the extent of learning the words. Maybe he was one of those strange university students that took a whole degree in the history of King Arthur. Dr. Pollen could never understand those people; did they have nothing better to do with their lives?

It was as he was having a sip of one of the many coffees he drank throughout the day to keep him sane, that the person from psychiatry arrived. Dr. Pollen directed him in the direction of Arthur's cubicle and then decided it was time to take his lunch break. He needed to maintain his energy for the day ahead after all. Placing a couple of charts back in the rack, he headed in the direction of the canteen.

* * *

Catching sight of the menu on the wall as he grabbed a tray and joined the back of the queue, Dr. Pollen saw that today was a Curry Day. Thursdays were always Curry Days. The options were either chicken tikka masala or spinach and chickpea curry. You also got naan bread on the side and a choice of chutneys. Of all the hospitals Dr. Pollen had ever worked in, this hospital had the best quality of food by far. There was always a variety. It was practically like a proper restaurant, despite the fact that through the large windows down the side of the canteen you had to look out onto the ambulance bay.

"Chicken tikka, please," the doctor said.

He was passed a hot plate and it was placed on his tray. He grabbed a bottle of coke on the way to the till and then paid for the meal. The spicy aroma was already working its way up his nostrils and suddenly he was ravenous, taste buds tingling.

Surveying the dining room, the man registered that the guest section of the canteen was practically full with relatives who must have been visiting patients and were now taking a break. Whereas the staff section of the canteen was almost empty, he recognised a couple of colleagues from surgery eating in one corner and a group of doctors from orthopaedics were sitting by the window. In the middle of the space sat a solitary figure, poking disinterestedly at the floppy leaves of a salad in a plastic lunch box.

Dr. Pollen walked over to them and slid into a seat opposite. He smiled as she looked up.

"Hi, Ellie," he said.

"Oh, John, hi," she greeted him and then glanced at the place of food in front of him. Her nose twitched. "Smells good. I love curry."

"Why didn't you have some then?" John asked.

Ellie blushed slightly. "I have salad." Once again she prodded the wilting leaves with her fork.

"I don't understand what it is with you girls and salad," the man sighed, "Why don't you just eat what you want?"

"If we ate stuff like that," she pointed at the curry, "Everyday then we wouldn't look like men want us to look. Its a size-zero world, Dr. P, and don't forget it."

"But _I _don't care..."

Ellie spluttered with laughter. "Oh, yeah right, John. Guys who say they don't care are liars. I mean, if I'm honest, I prefer a slim man." As Ellie said this she shrugged and then proceeded to stab her salad viciously and placed a piece of lettuce in her mouth.

John looked down at his curry, feeling slightly guilty.

"Want some?"

The girl raised her eyebrows.

"I'll take that as a no."

Digging into the piping hot curry, Dr. Pollen savoured the mix of flavours on his tongue. As he ate he watched his companion struggle with her unappetising lunch.

Ellie was twenty-two years old and technically still at university. She was doing her fourth year of her medical course. That meant that she followed doctors round the hospital and helped out where she could, learning as she went. She was yet to be fully qualified but Dr. Pollen was sure, with her determination, that she would pass her final exams with ease.

She had been at Alderry hospital for nine months and already was a well liked member of the team. Considering she always tried to get on with everyone it was not really a surprise. However, initially you had to get past her sarcastic tone to see that she was a nice person. Sometimes she could be a bit prickly. But that was just Ellie.

"So, had any interesting cases whilst I've been stuck up in dermatology rubbing ointment on some old crony?"

It was a well known fact among the staff in the hospital that Ellie wanted to be a doctor in emergency medicine. She didn't want to do much else, especially the boring fields like dermatology and geriatrics. When she first came to Alderry she had been placed in A&E and had blossomed. Then she had been rotated after three months. Despite this she still always somehow found reasons to wander back down and hang around in A&E. John enjoyed her drop-ins.

"Um...not really. A couple of kids with flu, a projectile vomiter, Mrs Lally was in again complaining of joint pain."

"Why doesn't she just die and get it over with?"

"_Ellie_," John said, admonishingly.

"Sorry, she's in every week though, it would save a lot of hassle."

"You don't become a doctor to avoid hassle. Anyway, there was also this young fellow who came in with a badly bleeding nose. He claims that he's Prince Arthur of Camelot."

Ellie looked amused. "_Well_, why not become one of the ultimate kings of all time? It's better than some of the other folks who think they're Charlie Chaplain or one of the Beatles."

"It's strange though. He's very convincing. If I didn't know that Arthur was either a legend or at least dead, then I'd believe him."

The young woman arched an eyebrow and grinned. "But then you believed old Ted when he told you that he was the first man to kiss Julie Walters."

"I'm a very trusting person."

"You're telling me."

**Please review. I hope you like Ellie. She's to be a pretty significant figure.**


	3. Kebab Shop

**Author's Note - Thank you very much for the reviews. They were very much appreciated. That's thanks to MagicbyMerlin, static-as-you-walk-away and kesterel2106. I have finished my exams - at last! So I can now write much more. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Its quite dialogue-ey which I don't like but hopefully the speech is natural enough to make it not too bad. **

**Oh, and no Merlin this chapter. I'm building up the suspense.**

"So what excuse have you got for coming to A&E this time?"

"Oh, no, honestly this time I'm meant to be meeting someone...." Ellie paused and looked around the deserted admit area. "But it looks like I must have missed them. Ah well, now I'm here I may as well come and meet this Prince Arthur."

John smirked. "That's the only reason you trailed up here isn't it?"

"No....perhaps....anyway, where is his royal highness?" The girl did a mock curtsey.

"If I let you in you have to first promise me that you won't tease him mercilessly or be sarcastic. He's in a fragile state. And secondly, under no circumstances must you encourage this idea that he's actually a prince. It will only exacerbate matters."

"Of course," Ellie grinned, innocently, "I would never dream of _exacerbating _this highly delicate matter."

Dr. Pollen, already having second thoughts, led his colleague over to the curtain that contained his latest patient and drew back the flimsy material. There he revealed a very disgruntled looking man dressed in oddly old fashioned clothes and with a mop of greasy blond hair. In Ellie's opinion it didn't look like he'd washed in days, perhaps even weeks. That was also judging by the pong.

Despite this, Ellie immediately leapt into doctor mode. Dr. Pollen decided to leave her to it and find man from psychiatry to see what his verdict was. She couldn't do too much damage in the five minutes he was gone.

* * *

Arthur stared at this newest visitor to his small curtained hovel and scowled. Why wouldn't these people just let him out? He didn't like this place with its nasty, unnatural smells and strange people dressed in pastel coloured matching outfits. Nor did he like the man who was moaning continuously in the bed next to him. The sound was very irritating. Every time he pulled on the restraints, however, he did not even gain an inch. They were immensely strong for pieces of material. If only he had his sword.

"Hello, Arthur," the woman said, "I'm Ellie."

She received no reply. Frowning slightly but schooling her expression to one of patience and encouragement, she tried again. Still no reply. All she wanted was a little hello. That wasn't too much to ask, was it? John hadn't said that the guy was mute; in fact, she swore he'd said that all Arthur did was talk and complain. At this point she wouldn't even mind if he was complaining. It would be better than the silence.

Watching the man, she saw that he wasn't even paying her any attention, he was looking idly around the cubicle, his eyes resting on various objects and then moving on to focus on something else. It was as if he was seeing things for the first time; exploring new surroundings. Perhaps, he'd never been to a hospital before.

Initially, the young doctor had believed that maybe she could get the newest addition to the ward to open up. She was usually quite good at that. It was one of her gifts as people, for some reason, tended to trust her. Maybe she had an honest face – that's what her granny had always said ever since she was a small girl. However, if Arthur wasn't even going to acknowledge her existence then she wasn't exactly going to get very far. She might as well sit back and wait for Dr. Pollen to return and relieve her of this awkward situation.

"How do you power your torches?"

The voice made Ellie jump and she had to look around for a second before realising it was actually the patient in the bed in front of her who'd spoken. He surveyed her with interested blue eyes. Confused, the woman looked around her, wondering what on earth he was talking about. She was making a breakthrough and she couldn't even answer the question.

Finally she queried, "Um...torches?"

"Yes, those torches on the ceiling." As he spoke, Arthur jerked his head up at the lights above their head. "I mean, I can't see any flame nor any smoke and they're very bright. How do you mount them in such a way: upside-down?"

Ellie was astounded. She couldn't quite believe that this full grown man was asking about how lights were powered. He was talking about flames; did he think they were oil lamps or something? This hospital may be pretty old but it didn't still have those floating about.

"They're powered by electricity."

Arthur looked blankly at her.

"You know the stuff that powers all electrical appliances? Lights, televisions, washing machines?" As she listed the appliances Ellie could see that she was losing the man even further. He looked at her with a completely baffled expression like everything she had just said had gone right over his head. Eventually she just asked, finally losing her patience, "Did you even go to school?"

"I was educated, if that's what you mean. I had a tutor; he taught me some science, some astronomy, mainly Latin – Father thought that was most important – and some literature. He made me read books, it was excruciatingly boring. I preferred practicing my sword skills with my trainer and the other knights. Despite being younger than the majority of them, my skill soon surpassed all theirs. I suppose I was also educated a little by Gaius as a young boy but that hardly counted. Medicine is hardly a worthy pass time."

Arthur watched his answer affect the woman in front of him. It was partly strange and partly amusing, the way her mouth opened and closed like a gawping fish and her brown eyes widened. He noted the wrinkled forehead, suggesting she was thoroughly baffled. That made him happier, he was glad he wasn't the only one completely bewildered at his current predicament. Nothing here made sense.

Ever since he'd arrived he'd been on the back foot: not having a clue where he was or who all these bizarrely dressed people were who didn't recognise him and didn't even address him by his proper title. He'd given up on making them call him 'sire' by now because no one listened. When he ordered that man in green that he should not merely call him Arthur but Prince Arthur he had just offered him a laugh and an incredulous expression. Obviously here, wherever here was, they had no idea how to treat royalty.

Judging by their lack of manners, Arthur presumed he was somewhere rough and uncivilised, probably somewhere Celtic. They tended not to know who the King of Camelot was or the Prince. In fact, last time he'd visited a Celtic region, they couldn't even point to Camelot on a map of Albion. However, this place was very much different to the last place if it was of Celtic background. Here they had lights that did not need fire to ignite them and they had carts and wagons that were not drawn by horses but propelled themselves. He'd even been in one! That had, in all honesty, been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life. And not many things had scared Prince Arthur.

He had no idea how these self-propellant carts worked but he was determined to find out how and take the technology back to Camelot. His father would be immensely proud and grateful.

"Of course medicine is a worthy pass time. In fact, it's not a worthy pass time, it's a worthy job." Ellie seemed to have finally found something to say.

"It's hardly reliable. Besides, what right does a woman have to say whether something is worthy or not? You are not a physician."

The girl literally spluttered, her eyes flashing dangerously. "If I'm not a physician then why on earth do you think I'm here? To have a little heart to heart?"

"Women can't be physicians."

"Oh," there was an edge to her voice now, "I think you'll find we can."

"A woman's job is to raise a family and look after the house. She can cook, she can weave, she can sew. Actually, she can even work in the field. Or woman of wealthier backgrounds can marry noble men and have heirs and look nice."

Ellie's face was a furious tomato red. She gave him one last fierce look and then turned on her heel, flouncing from the cubicle. The words 'sexist pig' floating behind her.

Arthur frowned. He had just been stating the truth.

* * *

Finally. The dark headed doctor was releasing him from his bonds. He was free at last. The relief was instantaneous when his wrists were pulled from the restraints. It wasn't like they'd been rubbed raw, in actual fact these bonds were strangely comfortable, but just to have the freedom to move his arms when and where he wanted, that was bliss. He rubbed the skin, revelling in the smoothness of his skin compared to the roughness of the bindings. Now his feet were released too. It was really a battle to fight the urge to leap off the bed and run as fast as he could anywhere.

However, the doctor was blocking his path.

"So, Arthur, you're allowed to go now. You need to keep the nose clean and take these painkillers when you feel you need them. Don't take more than two in a day. I would prefer to discharge you to a relative but if you really feel you can make your way home alone then I'll let you go. Do you want me to call you a taxi?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'll be fine." He began levering himself off the bed.

"Right." Dr. Pollen nodded and stepped back to allow the man passed. Arthur began striding down the corridor towards the exit of the hospital. Suddenly he stopped and turned round, heading back. Dr. Pollen frowned, puzzled.

"I was wondering whether I could have my sword back," Arthur questioned.

"Oh, I'm afraid not. It's been confiscated and taken to the police station. You can head there and try and get it back."

"No, its fine," Arthur said and once again left.

Dr. Pollen watched him go and pondered whether he'd made the correct decision. Despite Arthur's obvious personality problem, he didn't seem to be a danger to others and therefore the psychiatrist had just advised discharging him and perhaps doing a follow up. Even if he had bothered to arrange a follow up appointment with the young man, the doctor doubted whether he would keep it. Arthur didn't seem like he wanted to step foot in this place ever again.

* * *

As Arthur stepped outside into the gentle warmth of the rare sunny January day, he glanced around him and observed the world which sprawled out in front of him. People were walking towards the hospital and away from it nursing a selection of injuries, coughs and sniffles. They had varying shades of colour on their mainly pale faces. Past them was a stretch that seemed to be a road as he spotted one of those 'amblances' whizzing by and beyond that was a huge grey building which looked so high that it could scrape the sky. Beside that was a selection of more tall buildings and people milling about in front of them. Occasionally he would spot someone passing by on a strange two wheeled contraption that didn't look it would be able to stay upright but did.

It was an alien scene. Arthur stepped out into it.

There wasn't a tree, a field, a mountain in sight as he walked along. Just an endless amount of grey brick with smells and fumes that cloyed your nose and irritated your lungs. Arthur was not used to such thick air; he found it suffocating and uncomfortable. He was also not comfortable with the stares he was receiving as he proceeded down the street, staring into various windows which held selections of multicoloured shoes piled high and clothes strung out on vast washing lines. They looked at him like he was nothing more than a beggar or a drunk. It was degrading.

Eventually, he guessed that it was his clothes that made him stick out. Everyone here seemed to be wearing bright, crisp clothes of strange and exotic materials. He spotted one woman walking along in what seemed to be the skin of a tiger – like the ones he'd seen in the travelling shows in Camelot. She also had ridiculously high shoes in which she strutted along in with legs bared for all to see. Arthur was honestly astounded by her audacity in such nakedness. He could help but stare at her perfectly smooth calves.

"Oi, mate, keep them pretty eyes to yourself," she drawled and winked luridly at him, smacking her tightly clad bottom as she went. Arthur gawped.

Once he'd recovered, he carried on walking. He was also aware of how well groomed these people were. He'd always thought of himself as rather well kept but compared to these people he looked nothing better than a mangy dog. Their hair was shiny and lustrous, curled into all sorts of styles and their skin clean and unblemished. How could they remain so spotless?

It was as he passed by a kebab shop that a waft of meaty aroma reached his swollen nostrils and he inhaled deeply, enticed by the beautiful smell. His stomach rumbled loudly and he realised that he was starving. In fact, he remembered he hadn't eaten since breakfast. No wonder his body was complaining. Deciding to ask these people whether they would give some food to the Prince of Camelot, he entered the shop.

Inside the smell was even stronger and, so desperate for food now, he walked straight by the queue of people and up to the silver, reflective counter. It was warm to the touch. The person he pushed out of the way made an angry sound of protest as he leaned over towards the server.

"Excuse me, my good man, but could you give me a couple of...." Arthur looked at the greasy display, "Those things." He pointed haphazardly, not sure exactly what they were.

"There's a queue," the bloke grunted.

"I know that but I'm the Prince of Camelot and I'm starving. Can you just give me something and then I'll go?"

"Oi, didn't y'hear what 'e said? Shove off!" A man shouted from the back of the queue.

"I'm only trying to get some food." Arthur turned round to face him.

"Ain't we all? G'lost!"

Arthur reached for his sword. "Look, I order you to be quiet or I'll..." And found it wasn't there. Damn.

The large fellow had moved from his space and was squaring up to him now. "Or you'll what?"

Being one never to back down from a fight, Arthur stepped up to confront him and then, before he knew it, found himself being grabbed roughly by the shirt and flung out of the door like a sack of rotten potatoes. He landed hard on the ground outside, grazing his back on the pavement, whilst the customers in the shop jeered. The young man glared furiously at his attacker and jumped lithely to his feet, ready for another round but found himself stopped by a hand on his elbow. He whipped around.

Ellie, the girl from the hospital, was standing there, her face unreadable. Arthur could judge by her stance however that she was not best pleased.

"Arthur, come on. There's no need for you to get in a fight. Leave it."

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, mate." The man laughed and then grinned, suggestively, at Ellie. "You al'right, princess?"

She grimaced. "Fine, thank you. Come on, Arthur." She managed to drag him away.

* * *

It was when they were just down the street that the woman stopped pulling him along after her and he found himself free to stand still but she still hadn't relinquished her grip on his arm. He felt like a child being towed along by his mother. Not that he would know how that felt. Pulled by a nursemaid then.

"Why didn't you let me stay? I never back down from a fight! It's dishonourable."

"I don't care about your damn honour, Arthur; I just don't want to see you end up in A&E again with your head smashed in. There's only so much a beating the body can take in one day, you know." Ellie looked positively livid.

"I was hungry," Arthur said lamely, "He wouldn't let me get some food."

"Why didn't you wait in the queue then?"

"Princes don't wait," the man said, obnoxiously.

Ellie made a face. "Yeah, well, normal _civilised _people do. Look, why don't you just go buy some food from that take-away there and this time queue?" She pointed at a brightly lit fish and chips shop situated on the other side of the street. There was barely anyone in there, just one bloke who was finishing paying up and pulling his white plastic bag off the counter.

"Fine." Arthur glared at her and headed determinedly towards the shop...

Only to almost get mown down by a black Ford Fiesta which skidded to a halt and knocked into his leg just as he reached the middle of the road. Fortunately, by the time they collided, the bonnet could barely do any damage, even to soft tissue. Ellie gasped in shock and ran over to the stunned looking man.

"What the _hell _are you doing?"

"Going where you told me to."

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to look before you cross the road?"

Strangely, Ellie saw a flash of sadness pass through Arthur's eyes before he said, "No."

"How? What... I don't understand...what's wrong with you?" The girl spluttered, running a hand through her wayward hair. Finally, she grabbed him once more (that seemed the safest position to assume) apologised to the driver of the car and pulled him over to the shop. Once inside the warm building she pushed him at the counter.

The woman on the other side smiled and asked, "What would you like?"

"Um...the brown thing," Arthur pointed at a battered cod.

"With chips?"

"Are they nice?"

The woman laughed. "Well, my customers say they are."

"All right."

Arthur watched curiously as the lady grabbed the fish from the heating unit and placed it on a piece of paper before wrapping it and a pile of strange yellow things up with a swift and experienced hand. His stomach rumbled as he smelt the saltiness of his meal.

"Right," she said, "That's £1.99."

The young man looked at her blankly.

"I need your money, sir."

"Oh..." Arthur looked worried, "I don't....er....have any money on me at the moment." He began patting his pockets and suddenly found a silver coin. That would do. "Here."

The woman took the coin inspected it, shook her head, and handed it back to him. "I'm sorry, we don't accept that currency here."

"But that's pure silver."

"Pounds only."

Ellie, who had been standing by the door, enjoying the cool breeze from outside brush her face and provide respite from the heat of the deep fat fryers, turned and sighed in exasperation.

"Oh for crying out loud." She delved in her pocket, pulled out a five pound note and handed it over. The chip shop lady smiled at her and handed her the change."Ta."

Once more, the girl grabbed her newly found charge's arm and led him from the shop. He was staring at her with confusion.

"But that was paper."

She sighed. "_That _was money."

"It wasn't."

"Do you know anything?"

"It seems you have already decided I do not," Arthur replied, smartly.

This was all getting too much for the medical student. In fact, she was getting a headache from having to deal with the stress of looking after this annoying man. _And _she still thought he was a sexist pig. She'd even given him her last fiver and he hadn't even said thank you. Unbelievable ungrateful bastard.

**What do you think? Please review!**


	4. Accomodation

**Author's Note - Thanks to everyone for their extremely kind reviews: Lenaeuphoria, kesterel2106, MagicByMerlin, ToiletFacility(love the name!), allthenamesiwantedweretaken and static-as-you-walk-away. I'm sorry to say again, despite you guys asking, that this chapter contains no Merlin but I promise the next chapter will! Honest! Cross my heart and hope to die. **

**By the way, on the off chance, do any of you watch Robin Hood, if so this is a potential spoiler but....I cannot believe they killed Allan! And in such a horrible way! He was my favourite character. :( Needed to share my anguish with someone!**

Ellie watched with a repulsed expression on her face as Arthur dug into the greasy fish with just his bare fingers. They had forgotten to grab any of the little wooden forks from the dispenser in the chip shop so he had to eat without cutlery. It didn't look like he really minded though. The girl made a face and wrinkled her nose as he dropped particularly slippery piece of batter on his shirt and then he picked it off again, popping it in his mouth before munching loudly. Why did he have to make such horrible squelchy noises? It turned Ellie's stomach.

To his credit, however, he had offered her a handful of chips covered in salt and reeking of vinegar – a sweet, acidic smell. For some reason the smell made her taste buds tingle but also made her feel sick at the same time. She had declined the sticky offer because, firstly, she wasn't particularly hungry and secondly, she had sworn off take-aways after watching one too many of those shows on television about the vile places. Seeing the amount of grease that collected in those vats and the state of the workers' hands kind of put you off fast food.

She wondered what she was going to do with him once he finished his meal. Judging by the speed he was eating, she didn't have a lot of time to come to a decision. Her first thought was that she could not leave him alone. She'd already seen how quickly he became wrapped up in trouble just in the last hour. It wasn't safe to let him find his own way home. However, it was going to be difficult to find out where he actually did live.

"Arthur, do you know your address?" Ellie broached the subject.

"My address?"

"Yeah, the road you live in? The number of your house?"

"I live in Camelot Castle. I've told you this before."

Ellie groaned inwardly. "But you don't though, do you? You live somewhere but not in some imaginary castle. Come on, Arthur, its late, I want to go home, I'm sure you want to go home. Give me _something _to go on."

"Ellie." It was the first time he'd used her name. He didn't say it quite right but she resisted the urge to correct him. "I'm telling you the truth. I have lived in Camelot Castle all my life. Now, I don't know where we are now but if you can direct me in the direction of Camelot then I will leave you in peace."

"We're in London, Arthur, Camelot doesn't exist. It's part of a legend."

Arthur stared at her. "Of course it exists."

"Not here, not now."

"But I live there."

"You _don't_, Arthur." Ellie found herself shouting, vehemently.

Then quietly: "I don't understand."

Arthur looked so lost and honestly crushed that the girl instantly felt bad for yelling at him. He was delusional, she reminded herself – belatedly. He couldn't comprehend that what he said was not the truth. She should calm down and approach this situation with a cool head. Perhaps she should start at the beginning of the day, take Arthur step by step through it and then maybe he would reveal where he lived.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Arthur. Let's start at the beginning. Perhaps then we can get you home," Ellie said.

"The beginning?"

"Of the day. Start from when you got up."

Arthur shoved his last chip in his mouth and found it rather floppy and cold. That was annoying; he'd been enjoying those immensely. He'd never tasted anything like it but it was delicious. Once he'd done this, he balled up the paper and wiped his hands on his trousers.

"I got up at dawn, like usual. Breakfasted with Father in the dining hall. He took me through some issues that needed to be dealt with in the villages and then told me to deal with them and then I was free to do what I wanted. Merlin and I travelled out to the villages and I checked on some of the grain stores and dealt with a few thieving problems. Once that was done, I decided that I wanted to go on a ride." Arthur paused, trying to remember what happened next. "We found this natural pool in the foot of the mountains. There was a waterfall running down on one side. I wanted to go swimming but Merlin wanted to explore....he went behind the waterfall. At first I thought he'd drowned but then he called to me." Once again, Arthur hesitated, recalling the instance exactly. "I thought I might as well follow him because he's always getting himself into trouble and we found this cave. It was rather dark though and I...."

The man stopped suddenly and abruptly, his eyes flashing with embarrassment. He clamped his mouth shut.

"And you what?"

"Nothing."

"Arthur! That could very well be the most important part of the story. Tell me!" Ellie practically ordered him.

Arthur caved.

"I walked into a wall. That's how I did this," he gestured to his nose and watched as Ellie tried to hold back a laugh. "Anyway, I went outside to wash it and Merlin said he'd dropped something and would be out in a moment. It was only as I went out that I realised that his wasn't wearing a clasp so he couldn't have dropped it. I went back in and then everything went black. Then I ended up here."

Ellie looked perplexed. Her face contorted slightly as she tried to comprehend what he'd told her. It didn't make much sense. Perhaps, he'd been knocked out or lost his memory or.....she couldn't believe she was even considering it but maybe he had jumped forward in time. That seemed completely absurd even as she thought it. This wasn't some sci-fi film nor was it Doctor Who. People couldn't jump in time. Why was she even believing what Arthur said? He was no doubt mental and was giving her an imaginary story.

Yet he seemed so convincing. He had the clothes...he had the language....the sword if she remembered correctly....the attitude....and the smell.

No. She was just exhausted and allowing her mind to come up with these ridiculous possibilities. There was no way he could be from the past. It was impossible...He didn't seem to know about this world though; he didn't even know what a light was. Couldn't it be plausible that his lack of knowledge was because he'd never experience such things? Besides, who could really come up with such an improbable tale with such detail?

"Who's Merlin?" she suddenly asked.

"Merlin?" Arthur paused. "Oh, Merlin is my manservant. I'm not sure where he is."

As he said this Arthur realised that he'd given his friend very little thought since he got here. Where on earth was the annoying idiot? Did he have something to do with the flash in the cave? Perhaps he should be worrying about him. There was a mild anxiety forming in the back of his mind. Merlin did have a knack for getting into trouble. He often needed saving from situations if previous encounters with magical beasts was anything to go by.

"Did he come through too?" Ellie said before catching herself and realising what she'd entailed: that she believed this ludicrous story. She was really getting caught up in this situation. Why did she have to be so damn gullible? It was usually John that got sucked in by these fakes.

The man shrugged. "I don't know."

Something suddenly clicked in Ellie's head. "Wait. Did you say your manservant's name was Merlin?"

"Yes, I did, what's that got to do with anything?" Arthur frowned.

"And you're 'Prince Arthur'?"

"Yes and why did you do that weird curling motion with your two fingers?" The blond man questioned, bemused.

"It's an air quote. It means....oh it doesn't matter," Ellie sighed, she couldn't be bothered to explain, "Anyway, so you are Prince Arthur from Camelot and you have a friend called Merlin and you're from the past. He doesn't happen to be a wizard does he?"

Arthur's eyes widened. "You mean a _sorcerer_? Don't be ridiculous. Merlin couldn't perform a spell any more than he could wield a sword. Trust me; you don't want to be in the way when _he's _swinging the blade."

"It was just a question," Ellie shrugged and then said, "So; do you think you've come forward in time?"

Arthur raised his eyebrow and offered her an amused look. He couldn't believe that this girl was suggesting that he'd come forwards in time. That was preposterous. You couldn't go from being in your own time to being in another one. He couldn't even comprehend skipping forward a couple of days, let alone years. In fact, if he was in the future then by how many years? All through his life, Arthur had never really thought about tomorrow, he didn't really think about the people that would be in existence after he'd died. They hardly mattered. All he would care about was marriage and the birth of a son; his heir. That's the extent of the future he thought about.

"How would I have?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm not a rocket scientist."

"I don't even know what that means," Arthur stated, bluntly. He was surprised when Ellie chuckled.

Then she looked up at the darkening sky and the moon that was already peeping out of the thin grey clouds. It was a bright white orb among varying shades of pewter. A couple of twinkling stars could be seen as well; Ellie immediately recognised Orion's Belt. That was the only one she could ever spot. When she was younger, her dad always tried to teach them to her but she forgot as soon as he'd told her. It frustrated him no end.

It was almost the weekend. Tomorrow would be Friday and she would have to work but when Saturday came she didn't have anything to do except study. However, tomorrow would be a seven o'clock start for an eight thirty shift back in dreary dermatology. Looking at her phone, she saw the time was now almost seven and therefore she should be really heading home ready for an early night. Often she went out with her friends but for once they were studying (not a regular occurrence) for some upcoming exams.

But what to do with Arthur?

"I think I should find Merlin," Arthur suddenly said.

"You can't go now. Who knows what trouble you could get into at this time of night," the girl informed him.

"I'll be fine. Besides, where am I meant to stay?"

Ellie sighed, she couldn't honestly believe she was saying what she was about to say. Never in a million years would she have thought she'd say it. "You could...." she took a deep breath, "Come back with me."

Why she was inviting either a psycho or a man from the past to her home was beyond her. Obviously she was over tired.

"To your cottage?"

"Arthur, I don't live in a cottage. I live in a house but with other people."

"Your family?"

"No, they're...um....well friends."

"You mean I can stay at your home?"

The girl made a face. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying."

* * *

They arrived outside. It was a large Georgian town house with a stucco white wall which had yellowed slightly with age. The building was part of a terrace of identical houses that stretched all the way down the street. Not much else could be seen in the dim light apart from a dark green creeper twisting its way from above a high window up into the gables. It looked oddly haunted.

That was until you saw the bright red door with its peeling paint and the lone traffic cone sitting on the post of the gate up to the house. A couple of wheelie bins were parked up in the small space between the street and the house. About twenty empty beer bottles were lined up at their feet. Arthur nearly knocked several of them over as he followed Ellie up to the front door.

She rummaged in her bag and brought out a jangling set of keys. Arthur was surprised at the size of them, they were tiny compared to the huge ones he had for the armoury and the castle gates. Then again, he thought, the sizes of the keys in this world were the least of his problems. Shoving them in the lock, she performed a strange jerky manoeuvre and then proceeded to kick the door before it opened.

"It gets jammed," she murmured.

As they stepped into the house, Ellie reached over and flicked on a switch. Light flooded the hallway. Arthur blinked, blinded. He would never get used to these instant-burn torches. Walking across the patterned tiled floor, Ellie swept several pairs of shoes to the side with one foot and then threw her coat on the banister of the stairs.

Pointing to the first door on the left she said, "That's Calvin's room." Then she moved on a little further and pointed to another door. "That's Ben's. And through there is the kitchen and the living room. My room is upstairs. I'll show you in a moment. First I'm just going to get some food."

She strolled off and Arthur was left standing in the hallway wondering whether he was meant to be following her or not. This place was so foreign. He'd never seen a house of a peasant with so many rooms. In fact, she must be a noble considering the size of the place. However, it was strange that she seemed to be sharing this house with men who she told him were not related. Was one of them a husband? If not, then it seemed a very bizarre arrangement indeed.

The sound of a door handle turning awakened him from his ponderings and the prince spun round just in time to see a topless young man step out of one of the doors beside him. When this man spotted Arthur he froze, eyes widening with shock.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Um...well, I'm...." He had been about to say Prince Arthur but he stopped himself, people here never seemed to react well to his title. "I'm Arthur."

"And why are you in my house?"

"Ellie..." Arthur gestured meekly in the direction where his host had gone.

"Oh." A grin suddenly broke out across the fellow's face. "Why didn't you say so?"

Arthur wanted to say' I just did' but refrained out of politeness.

"It's about time she had a little bit of fun if you know what I mean," he smirked and nudged Arthur, knowingly. "Well, anyway." He held out a hand. "I'm Ben."

"Right."

It was at this moment that Ellie reappeared and Arthur couldn't have been happier to see her. He didn't want to continue this conversation with this half naked man. It was making him uncomfortable. He looked hopefully at the girl and she smiled slightly at him, a sandwich in her hand.

"I see you met Ben."

Arthur nodded.

"Well, let's go upstairs then."

Ben's grin widened even further. "Yeah, off you go, El, I'll be sure to be playing my music loud tonight."

Ellie grimaced. "Shut up. It's not like that." She grabbed Arthur's arm for what must have been the tenth time that day and hauled him up the stairs.

* * *

In her room, which was on the third floor, and therefore up in the eaves of the house Ellie collapsed on her bed. Arthur looked interestedly around the space. It wasn't a huge bedroom and the headroom was only just enough for him to stand up in but it was a very cosy place. In fact, Ellie was very proud of the way she'd made her room her own. Having been in the same house with the same people for two years she'd had time to personalise it. The walls that weren't the roof (and therefore wooden) were a kind of burnt orange and she had hung fairy lights which she had been given for her birthday last year around the walls to brighten the space. On one of the walls she had a collage of photographs which she'd stuck up with Blu-tack which showed her friends and family. A wooden bookshelf stood in one corner, beside a chest of drawers, which was filled with a multitude of books ranging from novels that her mum constantly sent her and textbooks to do with the human body and all its ailments. There was also a pile on the floor where she had plonked them after getting them out of the library and had not had time to stow them away.

On the floor, which was made up of varnished wooden floorboards, was a fluffy orange and red rug. Beside that was a small writing desk and a chair. Everything was coordinated. Ellie had made sure of that.

Slumped against the wall, she watched as Arthur wandered over to the photos and began inspecting them one by one, fascinated. He even went so far as to stroke one delicately with his fingertip to see if they were really real. Then he turned to Ellie. "How?"

She groaned. "I'm too tired to explain. They're photographs. Like paintings but instant image capture. You take them with cameras."

Arthur nodded, as if that made a whole lot of sense to him.

_Beep. Beep. _

Ellie sighed and rolled over slightly to pull her mobile phone out of her back jean pocket. It was a Nokia, she didn't know what type and didn't particularly care. Phones had never interested her much. In her opinion, you used them to call people and text people and that was it. None of this stupid internet surfing and the like. In fact, hers didn't even have Bluetooth....whatever that was.

Sliding it open, she flicked through and saw that she had one missed call. Probably from the friend she'd missed at the hospital. Oops. And then she had a list of texts running down her screen. It seemed they were all from Ben. Each one said the same thing.

_sooooo....wuu2. ha ha. ;)_

He could be such an idiot sometimes.

"What's that mean?" Arthur had suddenly come up beside her and was reading the text.

"Nothing!" Ellie exclaimed, snapping the phone closed.

**I promise promise promise that Merlin will be in the next chapter!**


	5. Double Glazing

**Author's Note - Thanks to ****MagicByMerlin****, ****ToiletFacility****, ****Munku-JGSPTV****, ****Lenaeuphoria****, ****Sannepan****, ****static-as-you-walk-away****, ****allthenamesiwantedweretaken**** and ****kesterel2106**** for their reviews!****  
**  
Merlin wasn't _exactly _sure what was going on. One moment he'd been in that cave with all the crystals and the next he was here. Wherever here was. Judging by the brickwork on either side of him, he was between two buildings: an alleyway. It was rather dingy and quiet except for the occasional scuttle of what must be rats rummaging in the rubbish scattered around the narrow space. Merlin wrinkled his nose at the strong stench of urine that emanated from all around him. It was sickly but not much worse than he'd experienced in some of the slums in the towns he'd visited.

He pondered whether this was an extension of the cave he'd been in. Perhaps it was a tunnel to this place. Somehow, though, that seemed unlikely. Wouldn't he have remembered wandering down here? Finally, he resolved that this situation that he'd got himself into must have something to do with the spell he performed in the cave. It seemed that he'd transported himself somewhere without realising. Just where, he would have to find out.

It was as he was moving forwards; towards the light he could see at the end of the passage, that he felt a solid presence in his hand. The crystal. He still had it with him. That meant he hadn't imagined being in the cave. Good, he wasn't completely crazy.

And then he reached the end of the alley. Perhaps he would have to rethink that statement.

In front of him was a road upon which bizarre contraptions were moving along, both in opposite directions and so close that they looked as if they would collide. They varied in colour and looked sort of like wagons – they had wheels – and yet there was not a horse in sight. They propelled themselves. Was it magic? Merlin wondered. Had sorcerers created these horse-less carts?

Before he could think about it any further, someone slammed into him. Merlin fell sideward, hitting the floor with his elbow, jarring his bones. He let out a hiss of air on impact.

"Watch where you're going, will you!" An angry looking man with a face like an unfortunate dog shouted at him. Then he dusted off some non-existent dirt on his spotless suit and glared at Merlin before walking away, leaving the manservant sprawled on the ground.

Merlin stared after the foul man with an incredulous expression on his face. He could not quite believe that had just happened. It had hardly been his fault that the incident had occurred. And he was the one who had ended up on the ground with a bruise already forming on his elbow. Rubbing his arm and making a face, he pulled himself to his feet.

Then he looked around once more. Dodged out of the way of a couple more strangely darkly dressed men and then wondered where on earth he was. One thing was for sure, he wasn't in Camelot anymore. Clutching his crystal close to him, the young man began to walk.

The whizzing of the carts beside him and the honk of horns and the smell of exhaust fumes disorientated him. Soon he wasn't sure at all where he was or where he'd come from. If someone asked him to go back the way he came then he wouldn't have a clue how. He told himself to pull himself together. He couldn't very well fall to pieces like this. Wherever he was, he needed to figure out a way to get home.

And then explain things to Arthur.

Trying not to think about his imminent demise at the hands of his master, Merlin set himself tasks in his head. First of all he needed to find out where he was.

"Excuse me?" he called in friendly way to a lady passing by with a baby in what seemed to be a miniature cart. Strange, these people had modes of transport just for their infants. Usually one would just use a sling.

She looked up at him and seemed to assess whether he was a threat to her and her baby or not. Merlin was reminded of a bitch guarding her litter and snapping at anyone who came close or a defensive woodland sparrow that had hatchlings to feed and protect. With shrewd blue eyes she asked, "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm a little...." Merlin searched for the right word, "...Lost and I was wondering whether you could tell me where I was?"

The woman offered him a sceptical expression but then shrugged and said, "Well, you're in Camelot Street." She paused. "And you're standing outside Topshop." She added the last part with a grin though Merlin wasn't sure what was funny.

"Camelot Street, you say?" he repeated both surprised and a little elated about what that could mean.

"That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"Yes....um....well...." He needed more details. "I was wondering more along the lines of the town?"

"This isn't a town, love, it's a city. Look, I've got to go. Little Sammy here has to visit the doctor's. I've got an appointment to keep. I hope that helped."

And then she was gone.

Well, it sort of helped, Merlin supposed. At least he'd established he was in a city rather than a town. That was one thing. Also, the street he was standing in had a name: Camelot. That had to mean something, surely? A link to where he'd come from. Perhaps he should hang around here and find out more from the locals. Maybe he could even ask them about those odd wagons.

* * *

Merlin had been walking in circles and questioning people for hours. He'd long since missed lunch and his stomach was uncomfortably empty. Occasionally it would show its discontent by rumbling loudly. So far, in his miniature survey of Camelot Street, he'd discovered a number of things. Firstly, that the wagons were called cars. He'd been told that by a very bemused looking man who'd been buying a sandwich from a vendor.

Secondly, he'd been informed that double glazing was half price if you bought it off _SheenShine _in the next week. He hadn't a clue what double glazing was but he'd promised the very persistent salesman that he would indeed buy it when he was next at a selected store. Now, along with the crystal in one hand, he had a brightly coloured flyer in the other.

He'd also been told that Camelot didn't exist and that it was a legend. Which was, of course, ridiculous. When he had informed the fellow so and been called a 'retard' and an 'asshole'. Merlin wasn't sure what they meant but he was certain they weren't polite.

Probably the biggest information he had gathered, however, was from a man who was reading a huge piece of paper with lots of uniform black writing and several amazingly accurate pictures. Once he had finished reading it he had asked Merlin (who had been sitting on the bench next to him) whether he wanted a read.

Merlin had then proceeded to sit on the bench and decipher the complicated words and phrases on the page. It had taken several attempts but eventually he concluded that he was not in fact in his own time. This was partially judging by the date that showed it was 2009 and he was fairly certain, although not exactly knowing what a date was, that that wasn't his. But he mainly came to his conclusion by reading a few of the stories that spoke of nuclear bombs, Presidents and A-levels. All of which he was positive they did not have where he came from.

So, after all this researching, he deduced that he was to blame for the jump in time as he read the spell on the wall.

Great. What was he meant to do now?

* * *

Evening was falling and Merlin still wasn't any closer to deciding what he was meant to do with himself now. He was still sat on the same bench with his crystal resting in his lap and the flyer in the crook of his arm. In fact, currently, he was partially falling asleep. Dozing with his chin resting on his chest.

That's when it happened.

The first blow was to his stomach; a punch in the guts. The second aimed at his windpipe, completely reduced the air flow to his lungs. As he choked and wheezed, trying to breathe once more, he watched in horror as his assailant grabbed the glittering crystal from his grip and, offering his victim a smirk, vanished down an alleyway.

At this point, realising that that crystal was the most important thing in his possession – the only thing in his possession – and with the ability to breathe once more, Merlin leapt to his feet and flew after the thief. He could hear the sound of the man's shoes echoing down the dark, dank passageway. He was reminded of the alley he had appeared in earlier in the day. They really were nasty places: shadowy, ominous and isolated. The further the manservant ran, the more he regretted careering headlong into this maze of winding streets. It was like a rabbit warren. Except, he doubted whether the things that lurked in the gloom down here were as harmless as rabbits.

Then he tripped. Stumbling over a bin that had been upturned and left in the narrow passage. Merlin went soaring through the air and landed with a sickening thud on the ground. A gash on his head suggested the body part on which he'd landed.

* * *

When Merlin woke, he was still lying in the rubbish strewn, urine-reeking alley. It was just this time he had a thumping headache. Opening his eyes and blinking slightly, he saw, right in front of his nose, a rat staring at him with interest. Its long whiskers wiggled as it sniffed him. Knowing the disease that rats carried with them, Merlin skidded backwards, shuffling like a fish on dry land. He stifled a cry of horror.

The rat, scared by the sudden movement, skittered away, bald tail swishing behind it as it vanished behind a pipe on the wall.

Merlin felt sick. He wasn't sure whether it was to do with the injury to his head or the fact a rat had been inches from his vulnerable face. Sitting slowly up, he reached a hand up to his temple and felt his hair which was sticky with blood. That couldn't be good. Why did he always get himself into these situations? He was such a clumsy oaf, as Arthur always told him.

And now he'd lost his crystal. His only link to his previous life.

"Hey, man, are you okay?"

The voice seemed to come from nowhere and Merlin jumped at the noise. His head whipped round on his neck and he felt the world spin. He let out a groan of sickness and pain.

"Are you drunk?"

"I....urgh...." Merlin replied, clutching at his head.

"I'll take that as a yes. Look, let me help you up."

The voice came closer and suddenly a pair of strong arms lifted the young manservant out of the gutter, placing him on his feet. Merlin swayed worryingly, feeling incredibly dizzy. Then he felt someone support him so that he didn't fall over.

"How long have you been here?" The question was asked but Merlin was in no position to reply.

**Okay, so that was pretty rubbish and not very funny. After all the suspense I left you guys in. I was struggling! I wanted to make it different from Arthur's but I didn't know how! Sorry. Review!**


	6. Sizzling Sausages

**Author's Note - Sorry for the lengthy period between updates. I was away. Thank you very much to these guys for reviewing: Christina B, Isis the Sphinx, Maria, Dawnmist 11, Sayansoul, MagicByMerlin, ToiletFacility, CountryPersonel, kesterel2106, static-as-you-walk-away and Lenaeuphoria. You guys are wonderful!**

**I would just like to say that I'm sorry if this chapter isn't particularly exciting or anything but its part of the development. This is a sort of slow moving story I guess. **

**Oh, and also, just in case any of you are wondering why this guy is taking so much care of Merlin, you'll find out in later chapter so don't complain its too unlikely.**

Merlin vaguely wondered where this man was taking him. Not that he was in any position to protest. He was just allowing himself to be led – or dragged – along the street. Occasionally, somewhere in the distance, he would hear the stranger talking to him, comforting him even, but he could never understand the words. They were just a muddled mess in his pain-addled head. He couldn't make out his surroundings either; they were just blurred, smudged shapes around him. Sometimes, he might recognise a tree but that was about it; the extent of his awareness.

It was when he was practically being carried by his rescuer, that they reached a door. Well, what Merlin assumed was a door though he couldn't be sure. He did register the change in temperature as they went from the chilly outside into the warm inside. The foreign, artificial tang of paint buffeted his nostrils, along with a slightly dusty, musty smell – like old bedclothes.

He was hauled up a set of stairs and then pulled through another door. A moment later he was promptly dropped on a bed. The mattress was extremely comfortable, moulding to Merlin's shape as he lay on it. Never before had he experienced such a soft bed, he doubted whether even Prince Arthur's bed was as comfy. He buried further into it, happily, but was then roughly tugged into a sitting position. He groaned.

"Sorry." He heard a muffled apology. "You can't sleep. I need to assess your wound. I think it may need stitches."

Merlin shrugged half-heartedly and sat still with his eyes drooping like an over-tired child and allowed the stranger to do what he wanted. He couldn't be bothered to argue. It was too much effort and would undoubtedly make him dizzier and sicker. In fact, he could feel bile rising in his throat now, acidic and burning.

Retching, the young manservant turned and vomited on the floor. Somehow he managed to avoid the bed completely, despite his disorientation.

"Whoa!" The voice said. "Perhaps, I _should_ get you checked out at the hospital."

However, after a time of being prodded and poked, the attention stopped. His gash seeming to have been cleaned with a piece of material, daubed in a smelly liquid that stung his skin but was undoubtedly some concoction to fight infection. He'd seen Gaius use many herbs to complete a similar task. He just wished that he also had some willow bark to chew on to relieve the pain which throbbed in his head.

It seemed that his temporary healer had decided not to take him to the hospital – whatever that was – and had instead allowed him to rest, lying on several pillows. Unfortunately, he would still not allow Merlin to sleep, even though the manservant felt absolutely exhausted. Each time his eyes closed then he would be shaken roughly to wake him up.

Eventually though, it seemed his ban from sleeping was lifted as he drifted off undisturbed.

* * *

There was a strange sound emanating from somewhere. It was a sort of hissing, sizzling noise like a thousand little snakes being burnt alive. Not the nicest of thoughts to wake up to but the smell accompanying it was: a meaty, juicy aroma. Merlin felt his nostrils twitch of their own accord as he inhaled the tantalizing scent. His taste buds tingled. It was then he remembered how hungry he was because he hadn't eaten in hours.

Gently easing himself up off the comfortable bed, he gingerly patted the area of his head where his wound had been and found a series of small neat stitches; rough to the touch. He felt a lot better too, after having slept off his pain. It was now a dull ache.

Once he was on his feet, swaying only slightly, he began to pad across the room. The floor was strangely springy, covered in a giant rug which stretched all the way to the corners and was made of some kind of synthetic material. He realised, by the fact his toes were wiggling in the soft carpet, that someone had removed his boots. Wobbling a little, he found himself in front of a mirror and stared at his reflection.

It was not a pretty sight.

He looked tired and gaunt and pale. None of which were good looks. His skin was naturally creamy white in tone, unlike Arthur's whose turned brown at the slightest hint of sunshine, and therefore looked even worse now. The hollows of his cheeks were very visible and he wasn't even sucking them in at all. This was probably one of the reasons Gaius always told him to eat more at meal times but Merlin just didn't have a very large appetite. Also, often he found his stomach didn't agree with many foods so that restricted his diet too.

His hair was sticking up all over the place in greasy spikes and his clothes were stained with sick (much like part of the floor beside him). Merlin wrinkled his nose and wished for a river to bathe in so he could get rid of the stench. Perhaps, he should also wish for a washerwoman to clean his jerkin.

Deciding, eventually, that there was nothing he could do about his dishevelled appearance, Merlin began to follow his ears in the direction of the sizzling. He stumbled slowly out of the bedroom, catching the doorframe half way in order to support himself, and found himself in a space which several doors led off from. The sound seemed to be coming from the door straight ahead so he walked forward and cautiously pushed it open. Peculiarly, unlike the extremely creaky, squeaky doors at the castle, the hinges of this door did not protest at all.

After a smooth entrance, Merlin stepped tentatively onto the tiled floor and surveyed the room in front of him. Obviously, it was a kitchen but not one like he'd ever seen in his _life_. For one thing, it was ridiculously clean, clear and white. He couldn't see a fire in sight. If you went into one of the castle kitchens it was often hard to breathe or see because of the smoke that enveloped everything. In the middle of the room was a wooden table around which four chairs were placed. At a distance, Merlin would say the knots in the wood and the colour meant it was pine. Usually, he saw only oak tables.

Standing over one of the surfaces at the edge of the kitchen was the man; Merlin guessed he was the one who'd helped him. From the back, obviously Merlin couldn't tell facial features but from the back he was broad shouldered, tall and had a shock of brown, slightly curly, hair. The manservant was reminded of his master's build and height, perhaps a little more slender though. He was dressed in a strange pair of trousers that were black but made of an exotic material and an unnaturally white t-shirt. Merlin looked down at his own clothes and felt grubby and bland. He scratched his head too, wondering how this man managed to make his hair go in exactly the right place and look so clean.

Just at that moment, the fellow turned round and, looking momentarily surprised, broke into a dazzling grin.

"And good morning to you," he said.

Now that he could see the man's face, Merlin saw that he had shocking blue eyes, the colour of the sky on a hazy day. They contrasted eerily with his darker hair. His cheek bones were high and he had an angular jaw. Merlin noted that he also had inherited genes similar to Arthur's, meaning he tanned easily.

"I'm cooking some breakfast. You fancy some?"

He gestured at the frying pan that he held in his hand. Sliding around inside, Merlin saw that there were several fat sausages. He was at a loss as to how his companion had cooked them on that strange appliance but he forgot about that when he realised just how damn hungry he was.

Merlin tried to speak but croaked initially before he coughed and cleared his scratchy throat. "Um...yes please."

"Okay, just sit there." The man pointed at a chair with his spatula and directed Merlin to it. The manservant complied.

A moment later he was joined and plated up with several sausages and bread (out of a bizarre packet that said _Hovis_ on) which was already sliced. He was then offered a bright red bottle of liquid. Not really certain what it was, but willing to try it anyway because he was hungry, Merlin upturned the bottle onto his plate. At which point a huge dollop of sauce landed all over his sausages. It may have been a little more than he intended but he didn't care especially and didn't want to make a fuss. Now he should probably see whether he liked the taste.

It was just as he'd popped the first bready-saucey-sausage mouthful in and swallowed that his fellow breakfaster spoke once more.

"You're looking better. That's good. I mean, the injury wasn't too bad but you never know with these things. Head injuries are unpredictable. You probably have a bit of a headache though, don't you? Is that from the bash or the drinking?" He grinned.

Merlin looked perplexed. "I wasn't drinking."

"Oh, I just thought....you were a bit disorientated....maybe that was just the concussion. Anyway, I've just realised how incredibly rude I've been. I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Nick."

"Nick." Merlin nodded, repeating the name. "I'm Merlin."

Nick spluttered on his orange juice. "Like the wizard?"

If it was possible, the manservant went even pastier as every drop of blood drained from his face and he squeezed his sausage sandwich just a little too hard causing a glob of tomato to ooze onto his hand. Nick was astounded by the reaction he'd provoked. He back-tracked quickly.

"It was a joke. I'm sure you've heard it a thousand times and it's getting old. I'm really sorry if I offended you."

"No." Merlin paused as something akin to relief washed over his expression. "It's fine. I'm just not a wizard."

Nick struggled not to snort again. This conversation was bizarre. Even so, he needed to control himself and show some manners.

"Thank you for helping me, by the way," Merlin suddenly said, looking earnestly at him.

"That's all right. I couldn't very well leave you lying there, could I?" Nick hesitated. "Do you mind if I ask you what did actually happen?"

"A man attacked me and stole my crystal whilst I was sleeping on a bench," the young man informed him sincerely. "I chased him and that's when I fell."

"You were mugged?" Nick repeated, his face suddenly ashen. "Did he hurt you badly anywhere?"

Merlin shook his head. "Just a few punches."

"You should report this to the police. What did you say he took? A crystal?"

"Yes but who are the police?"

The other man looked bemused as Merlin looked blankly at him. Not an ounce of recognition in his eyes. Perhaps that fall had done more harm than he'd initially thought. Perhaps he'd suffered some memory loss.

"Where do you live, Merlin?"

"Well, I used to live in Ealdor but now I live at the castle with Gaius. You know, Camelot?"

For one thing, Ealdor sounded like something out of Lord of the Rings to Nick but more importantly he knew that Camelot did not exist. Well, not anymore. Also, there were no castles round here that he knew of. Suddenly, he was struck by an idea: maybe Merlin meant Camelot Street and he was just calling it by the first part as it was such a well known place.

"Camelot Street?" he repeated to clarify.

"No, there are lots of streets in Camelot but I live in Camelot Castle. King Uther's castle."

Dear god, this guy either had more damage to his brain than Nick could fathom or he was crazy. Either way things were not looking good.

"But Merlin....we're in Bristol."

**And with that bombshell I've got to end the chapter. Review!**


	7. Taking a Shower

**Thanks to these peeps for reviewing: punkrose1818, MagicbyMerlin, ****Isis the Sphinx****, ****Christina B****, ****Dawnmist 11****, ****Lenaeuphoria****, Toilet Facility is really lazy (Bristol is just another big city in England and it will make sense later), ****static-as-you-walk-away**** and ****kesterel2106****.**

**Special note to punkrose1818 **

**I am in the UK and Merlin has been and gone for the whole series one. It finished just before Christmas. **

**In the UK we have the currency pounds which are shown by the symbol £. You don't really need to know what they are to be honest. Fish and chips are traditional takeaways (takeouts) that we have here in Britain. You will find a lot of 'weird' English dialect in here but that's because I'm English and that's where it is set. If you want to ask questions about bits you don't understand just send them to me and I'll translate or explain.**

**Merlin and Arthur are in Britain for the reason that they are British and should Camelot ever have existed it would've been in England/Wales. That's why I thought it would reasonable to assume that should they go into the future they would stay within the same country rather than jump to say, America. **

**I hope that clears some things up. **

* * *

Bristol. Merlin consulted his internal map of Britain. It did not feature. Therefore, this further backed up the point that he was no longer in his own time. By his judgement, he was several thousand years in the future. It was hard to explain how he knew that but there was just a sort of ancient knowledge inside of him.

He knew that it was his fault he was here and that he needed to find a spell to combat the one he'd performed in order to get home. That would be difficult though, considering he didn't have Gaius' unlimited library of books at his disposal. He imagined the many huge, dust volumes lining the shelves of the physician's chambers and wished he could conjure them up now in order to help him. Unfortunately, that kind of magic was far beyond his capabilities.

So how would he discover the spell?

It was a significant obstacle: not having spell books but Merlin was willing to work through it otherwise he would be stuck here for the foreseeable future. That prospect did not appeal to him. He wanted to return to his own time, to the castle, to the man he was meant to do all he could to protect. Speaking of Arthur, Merlin realised that he had just left the prince alone in the forest with a bloody nose and no idea where he'd gone. He wondered how the man would react. Most likely, he would be confused and rather angry. Perhaps, he'd think Merlin had run away.

Merlin dreaded to think what trouble he could get into whilst the warlock was absent.

"Merlin, do you live in Bristol?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere and Merlin was pulled from his worries with a jolt. He schooled his expression.

"Er...no, I don't," he replied. Nick looked sceptical. No doubt, he was wondering whether he was still being fed ridiculous ideas. Well, Merlin wasn't about to disappoint him.

"So where do you live?"

"Camelot."

Nick sighed. "Merlin, we've been through this."

"We are in 2009, correct?"

Looking perplexed, Nick answered, "Correct."

"Well, I'm not from this time." Merlin sat back in his chair, crossed his arms and looked expectantly at the other man.

He watched as a series of expressions passed across the young man's face. First was incredulity, and then came frustration, then annoyance, then a sprinkle of contemplation which morphed into a half belief before it was immediately quashed by reason. Merlin wondered what the outcome of Nick's muddled thoughts would be. Something told him that Nick was a trusting man and that he liked to believe what people told him but undoubtedly Merlin's suggestion would seem ludicrous.

Opening his mouth slightly, Nick seemed about to say something and then stopped again, blue eyes flickering with possibility.

Finally, he said, "Forgive me for saying I don't believe you."

It was just as the manservant was about to argue his case that they both heard the door in the hallway bang open. Nick looked over Merlin's head with a momentary frown on his face. However, that frown turned into a smile and he stood up from the table. His chair scraped noisily on the tiled floor.

"How'd it go?" he asked, just as Merlin had rotated in his seat.

Standing in the doorway was a vision of beauty. In Merlin's humble opinion, her looks rivalled Morgana's, equalling them if not exceeding them. Her hair was long and honey-gold, hanging in supple waves around her face, framing it like some glorious oil painting. The style was different to any he'd seen as some of her locks seemed to be cut shorter at the front to give a fringe which lay to one side. She looked tousled and carefree yet well-groomed. Merlin had never seen such shiny tresses in his life.

She had dark brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, that contrasted starkly with her hair and the rest of her complexion which, although tanned, was reasonably fair. They were enhanced further by her lashes that were thick and long. Her cheek bones were prominent on her face and her nose was perfectly proportioned.

Merlin struggled to find anything wrong with her. In appearance, anyway.

"Oh, Nick, it was great!" She beamed. Her smiled dazzled Merlin with its whiteness. "They loved me. Honestly, I've never met such nice people and they wanted _me _for the job. I'm so excited. It's going to be brilliant."

And still she had not stopped grinning. And still Merlin had not stopped staring.

"Damn, Pip, that's fantastic." Nick rushed passed the table and gathered her up in a huge hug, his larger frame enveloping her smaller one. "I'm so happy for you."

Merlin watched the two of them, astonished at the display of affection and the pleasure taken in it. He also felt a pang of jealousy at Nick for having such a beautiful woman. In his own time, a man and a wife would never have shown such openness in their relationship.

They let go of one another and Merlin was finally noticed by the newcomer. He offered her a nervous smile.

"Oh, Nick, this isn't another one of your projects, is it?" she asked, looking worried.

Nick shook his head, desperately, making a face at Merlin for him to remain silent. Merlin was baffled. "No, no, this is Merlin. He's a friend."

"Didn't know you had any friends," the woman smirked and slipped into a seat beside Merlin.

"Ha ha."

"Anyway, hello, Merlin, I'm Pippa. Sorry about jumping to conclusions there but Nick has a bit of a thing about taking waifs and strays off the street – you probably know that though don't you? – so I just assumed you were another one." She looked pointedly at Merlin's grubby attire and he cringed under her scrutiny. "He likes to help everyone. Last week I came home and we had a tramp in the bath whistling away to 'Saints go marching in'. I think I was scarred for life."

"Hello, my lady." Merlin thought it was only right to address such a noble looking woman. He would've bowed but he was sitting down.

Pippa raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner, surprised by the formalness of their visitor's answer. She wasn't quite sure how to react. Was he joking?

"He's just messing with you, Pip," Nick butted in, throwing a warning look at Merlin who shrugged, still feeling confused at the mixed signals.

"Right, you boys have such weird senses of humour." She paused and saw the young man's abashed expression. "But I forgive you. So, do you work at the hospital with Nick then?"

Merlin glanced for guidance at the other man because he still had not discovered what a hospital was. Was he expected to lie or tell the truth? Judging by Nick's expression, he wanted him to go along with this charade. The manservant was not stupid and he had guessed by now that he was another of these 'projects' but that Nick didn't want to reveal that to his wife as she seemed fed up of it. Part of him wanted to drop the man in, get him in trouble with the gorgeous woman, but his better half reminded him how Nick had helped him. That wouldn't be fair.

"Yes."

"Are you a doctor?"

"He's a porter. Nothing medical." Nick rescued Merlin from what could have been an awkward answer.

"So how did you meet our friendly paediatrician here, then?"

"Unruly kid got loose and Merlin helped me catch him." Nick laughed (fakely, in Merlin's opinion) and Pippa chuckled too.

"Okay, well, I'm going for a shower. I'll leave you two chatting." She wandered off.

Merlin didn't want her to leave. Her presence had truly lit up the room and now he felt depressed without her being there. Still, he knew he had some important business with Nick to clear up, like the fact he was from the past. Also, he wanted to know the exact reasons as to why he had to lie to Pippa. Merlin didn't like lying, for one thing he was terrible at it but for another, he didn't do it on principle because then people never trusted you. It was wrong to tell someone something that wasn't correct.

He turned to question Nick but the young man had already begun tidying the dirty plates from the table and was loading them into a peculiar contraption in which there were two layers of racks, that rolled out, upon which you could load soiled cutlery and crockery. Merlin pondered as to what would happen to them once they entered the machine. He assumed it cleaned them but he wondered just how that came about.

Once Nick had completed that task, he was busy wiping down the table and surfaces upon he'd spread hundreds of bread crumbs all over the place.

"You know," he suddenly said, "I was going to offer you a shower just before Pippa got here. No offence, mate, but you stink."

Merlin, feeling mildly offended, plucked a piece of his jerkin between his fingers and sniffed at the material. And he found that it did reek. He had meant to have a bathe in the lake last week – or was it the week before that – but Arthur had roped him into helping clean out the stables before he had time. His clothes were meant to be washed in an odd spare moment but, to be honest, as the prince's manservant, he didn't have many of those. He was surprised that Gaius hadn't complained about the pong or at least his master. The prince never had any qualms about insulting Merlin.

"I'm sorry. I will wash if you have the facilities. I want to know, though, why you are lying to your wife?"

"My wife!" Nick spluttered his eyes wide with undisguised amusement.

"Yes, the lady who just left."

"Merlin, that's my sister, not my wife."

"Oh..."

* * *

It was about an hour later when Pippa emerged from the bathroom, her hair still slightly damp from the shower. She disappeared off to her bedroom in search of a hairdryer whilst Merlin was shoved into the bathroom to get clean. Nick had even offered him the use of his razor and some of his clothes for once he got out.

Now Merlin was in the strange silver cubicle, naked, and wondering what on earth he was meant to do. He was in a small tiled space which could be closed off with a door made entirely of glass. That completely threw the manservant when he first entered as he'd walked straight into it, oblivious to the solid object. It had hurt a lot.

Staring at the white box on the wall Merlin was at a loss. His eyes followed the bizarre snaking instrument attached to it that had a bulbous attachment on one end and wondered at the usage. He guessed that somehow he was meant to get water from the box but he didn't have the faintest clue as to how to start. Perhaps he should just press this...

The young man gasped as freezing cold water hit him and knocked the breath from his body. He jumped about a bit, too cold to stand in one place and wanting to get away from the endless stream of ice liquid. As he moved, he smacked every bit of his body on the hard wall surrounding him and yelped with each impact. After what felt like hours but was actually just seconds later, the water began to warm up. Merlin revelled in the stream now, enjoying it.

That was until it started to get too hot.

He didn't know how to stop it. Gradually the temperature got hotter and hotter until he was terribly scalded by every splash of water. His skin stung. At this point he barrelled out of the cubicle and onto the lino floor outside. Unfortunately, he missed the mat and skidded wildly across the slippery surface before landing painfully on his backside. Sitting there, he closed his eyes and willed the pain away. He willed himself not to let out a yell of agony.

So, covered in water and with an extremely sore bottom, Merlin clambered gingerly to his feet and quietly made his way back to the still-running shower. Now he was away from the downpour he could think clearly and now saw that the white box had a dial on which you could twist from hot to cold. He saw that it was currently on almost completely hot. That was probably why he had a burnt back.

Darting his hand quickly in, he twisted the knob to a more appropriate temperature and then slipped back into the shower. As he was washing, he realised there were several bottles in a basket on the wall – they reminded him of the ketchup bottle – he guessed they were for washing his body, like soap root. Looking at the labels on the packets, he realised some were for the body and some were for his hair.

Was he meant to use them all?

It was several minutes later by the time Merlin had sampled each bottle and his hair must have been cleaner than it had ever been in his life. His body also felt less grimy and itchy. Instead it was fresher.

Not really wanting to leave the warmth of the shower, the young man decided it was probably time for him to get out. This time, he did it more carefully and slowly, deliberately stepping on the roughness of the bathmat outside. Then he grabbed a towel off a rack and dried himself off. When he looked in the mirror he was practically glowing from the heat of the shower, his cheeks were bright pink.

It took him awhile to work out how Nick's razor worked but eventually he found it was much more efficient than his own crude knife as his skin was so much smoother and softer. Whilst he was standing in front of the sink he was tempted to try all the bottles and boxes on the shelf above him but decided against it, conscious of the amount of time he'd been in the bathroom. Instead, he pulled on a pair of boxers, some of those strange trousers which were oddly heavy and tough and a blue-green checked shirt.

He felt very clean.

Walking proudly out of the door, he almost bumped into Nick who was clutching some small black device to his ear and talking to no one in particular. Merlin went to apologise but Nick waved him off, a grave expression on his face, before vanishing into his bedroom. The manservant headed in the other direction, into the kitchen.

Merlin stopped dead in the doorway, seeing that Pippa was sitting at the table, spooning a brown substance into her mouth with a spoon. Beside her stood a red and white box which read _Special K_ on the side.

She looked up and smiled at him, gesturing for him to sit down.

"Sorry at the state I'm in," she said, once he'd taken a chair, "It's just I had the results of my audition this morning and I rushed there as soon as I got up. I didn't bother with a shower or breakfast or anything. Nick tells me you've been in the flat this whole time and I didn't even realise. Shows how preoccupied I've been."

Merlin found himself nodding through all this but not really listening, he was too entranced. When he realised she'd stopped talking and was looking at him for a comment he wondered whether he was meant to be speaking. What words had he heard? 'Audition' that was one.

"What's an audition?"

"Oh, it was for this new BBC series coming out. I'm told it's going to be huge. I don't really care whether it's that great or not, to be honest, it's my first big break and I'm taking it. I might not get another opportunity like it. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've been on TV before but minor parts on _Casualty _and _The Bill_ hardly count. This is a proper role."

Obviously, Pippa hadn't heard him right as she didn't answer his actual question but Merlin didn't particularly care. Nor had he understood much of what she'd said.

"What's the series?" he queried, picking up on one of the only few things he'd recognised – sort of.

"It's going to be amazing. It's one of those _ye olde _ones for the family. Like _Robin Hood _but this one's called _Arthur_. After, you know, King Arthur of the Round Table and all that."

Merlin did know. His mouth fell open.

**Haha, sorry, I'm laughing at myself.....that's lame. I'm sorry. Review!**


	8. Cinema Trip

**Author's Note - Sorry about the length between updates. I had a bit of writer's block, that's why this chapter is quite short. Thank you to Sayansoul, MagicByMerlin, static-as-you-walk-away, SpaceAnJL, Lenaeuphoria, Christina B, Isis the Sphinx, ToiletFacility, Munku-JGSPTV, kesterel2106, Dawnmist 11 and punkrose1818. Yes, pong is bad smell and if you're wondering in this chapter 'yob' means youths that hang around on streets causing trouble. **

**This chapter is about Arthur. I'm going to try and do alternate chapters from now on.**

Arthur had long since given up asking Ellie questions about her possessions. She seemed to get really frustrated every time he did. For example, he'd merely asked what the device she'd been using to call people with was named and she'd snapped 'mobile phone'. Nevertheless, one good thing did seem to come of his relentless questioning and that was her belief that he was indeed – however impossibly – from the past. She couldn't think of any way to explain his ignorance of the modern day and yet his expansive knowledge of the period just after the Roman Empire fell. Well, what she guessed was around the 5th or 6th century.

His dirty appearance and rude demeanour also helped to clarify things. Ellie had wanted to change his lack of hygiene as soon as possible so she'd ordered the young man into a shower. Fortunately, she directed him on how to use it before he got in because otherwise he would've been completely lost. She'd also vanished for awhile downstairs and then reappeared with an armful of clothes. These, she'd dumped on her bed.

"These are George's. He's about your size."

Arthur wanted to ask who this George was. How many men lived in this house with her? It seemed a completely foreign and rather dishonourable concept to him. He didn't understand how Ellie's parents would allow their daughter to live such a unrestrained life. Even Uther, who wasn't even Morgana's father, wouldn't allow his ward to inhabit a house with three men.

"Do you just live with three men?" the prince queried, tentatively. Ellie was, at that moment, sorting through the pile of garments and making them into suitable outfits. When she heard Arthur's question, she looked up through a curtain of hair, brushing it from her face with a slender hand.

She smiled. "Oh, no, I don't think I'd be able to survive that. There are three other girls as well: Diane, Portia and Loz. They're on the floor below with George." Pausing, she picked up a pink t-shirt and held it up in front of her, considering.

"I'm not wearing that."

"Yeah, you're right, only some guys can pull off pink." Ellie inspected him. "And you're not one of them."

Arthur made a face in reply. "I'm glad."

"Aha, this will suit you down to the ground." The girl brandished a pair of denim jeans and a plain black v-neck t-shirt. "Very chic."

"I'm not sure."

"You don't have a choice, to be honest. I don't exactly have an abundance of men's clothes."

After that she'd gone off to work and left Arthur with strict instructions not to leave the house and not the offend anyone present. The prince couldn't help feel like a child and he didn't like that sensation. He was a prince after all; a prince who'd vanquished magical creatures and fought in many battles. And he wouldn't allow himself to be ordered around by a mere slip of a girl.

Despite this attitude, Arthur still hadn't summoned up the courage to defy her instructions and step out of the house. Frankly, it was not her wrath he feared but the world outside. He didn't dare venture into it alone, not after his previous experience.

So that was how he found himself sitting in the large kitchen with a bowl of what Ellie had told him was cereal in front of him. He poked at it, disinterestedly, with his spoon. The brown, sludgy mess didn't really appeal to him. In fact, he longed for the cooked breakfasts he usually ate at the castle, courtesy of the servants, where he had a whole array of delicious foods: tender ham, juicy bacon, fresh, fleshy fruit, doughy bread, pickled eggs, tasty oysters and goat's cheese. How on earth was this meant to give you energy and keep you full until lunch?

He was wearing the clothes she'd given him and found them strangely light and revealing. He didn't tend to bare his arms, no matter how hot it was. The v of the t-shirt was unusual but he'd worn shirts with similarly low collars. That didn't bother him as much. He didn't have any boots as yet because this _George _was not his shoe size and his own were too muddy to wear round the house. Therefore, he was barefoot; his feet cold on the smooth tiles.

"Well, I've never seen a man so uninterested in his food."

The voice came from nowhere and Arthur had to look round for a couple of seconds before he saw the speaker.

"Usually, you guys tend to inhale everything."

She was slim, very slim. Arthur was reminded of some of the peasants that he saw in the villages who hadn't had a very good crop season or had lost several herds of livestock to disease. Their cheeks were hollow and you could see their collar bones standing prominently on their chests. Every time they moved, you could see the jagged point of a shoulder blade from beneath their threadbare clothing. Arthur remembered seeing one young woman in particular whose limbs were so thin he was reminded of a bird – so fragile it could be blown away in the wind.

However, this woman did not have the same discontent in her expression; she did not look desperately unhappy and resigned to a life of poverty and starvation. She looked cheerful. Arthur wondered whether she was putting on a brave face.

"Would you like some food?" He could not help offer considering the condition of her body.

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly but Arthur, ever vigilant, noticed. "Oh, no, no I don't eat breakfast."

To be honest, Arthur couldn't quite believe that she had turned him down. He'd thought she'd be grateful and yet here she was telling him she _chose _not to eat a meal. It was absurd.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," she replied in an almost dismissive way, "Now, you must be Arthur, Ellie's friend."

"Yes."

"I'm Diane. It's nice to meet you."

Arthur thought it was nice to finally meet another woman who lived in the house with Ellie but he still couldn't believe that either of them co-habited with men. If this was the future then the prince wasn't sure whether he wanted to be part of it. It seemed so dishonourable and unclean.

"Good morning." Arthur smiled politely.

"So...." she began and the young man was suddenly aware that she was looking him up and down. In the past, he would've been thrilled with such attention from a pretty girl but there was something off about Diane. He wasn't sure he wanted to get involved. He still couldn't get over the fact that she had food and yet she did not eat it. That wasn't how a human should be. "I was wondering....are you and Ellie planning on doing anything today?"

"No, she's working."

"Oh yeah, the delights of being a medical student: the hours."

The joke was lost on Arthur. Diane seemed to sense this and moved swiftly on. "Well, if you aren't up to anything, do you fancy coming out with me?"

"Um...." Arthur hesitated.

Diane's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you and Ellie were, you know.....I just assumed friends meant friends....if I'd though....sorry....I'm so stupid." She half covered her flushing face with her chestnut hair.

"No, it's not that. In fact, I'd like to come out with you. Where will we go?"

"Oh...well, I dunno, cinema?"

And even though Arthur had no idea what a cinema was, he agreed.

* * *

The screen was huge. That was what Arthur couldn't get over. It was like those photos that Ellie had on her wall but, extraordinarily, they moved. Initially, he thought it must be sorcery but having dismissed that idea, he then assumed that it was actors on a stage. But that had to be incorrect too because the people were so large and flat. Eventually, he had decided that they were moving photos; how they moved exactly, he would have to ask Ellie when he returned to the house.

Diane had called what they were watching: a film. Apparently, it was about robots – whatever they were – that turned from vehicles, like cars – whatever they were – into massive metal creatures called _Transformers _–whatever they were. Arthur was lost already. Instead of watching the film, he found himself looking round the darkened, crowded cinema chairs at the people who occupied them. They were all engrossed in the movie.

He observed one man, who was eating bizarre white, crunchy balls which seemed to be called popcorn (judging by the writing on the bag). They were extremely noisy in the quiet space and the man kept throwing them at his mouth and missing. There were white blobs all over his blue shirt. Arthur was disgusted by his appalling manners.

Another bloke was busy sucking through a straw in order to get the liquid in his cup. Arthur's attuned ears picked up the slurping sound and he made a face, wrinkling his nose.

He was distracted from his staring, however, by a sudden sensation on his leg. Looking down, he saw a bony hand lightly resting there. He quirked an eyebrow slightly, glanced once at Diane but said nothing.

That was a mistake.

A few minutes later, seemingly encouraged by his lack of protest, Diane began to gently stroke his leg through the material of his trousers. Arthur frowned. This was not what he had been expecting. Never had experienced such a forward woman. It was usually the man that made the first move and that was only if he wanted to. And in this case, Arthur didn't want to. It was mainly to do with the fact that he could feel the bones of her shoulder digging into him as she leant on him and see her ribs on breast because of her low slung top. He just felt uncomfortable and not just physically.

Her hand was moving fast.

And so was Arthur. He stood up in his chair, the flip seat hitting him in the back of the knees on the way up. Diane stopped, abruptly, confused.

"Oi, mate, sit down! I can't see the film!" Someone yelled from behind him. This was backed up with several murmurs of agreement.

"Arthur!" Diane hissed, "What are you doing?" She tugged on his trouser leg.

"Stop touching me," he replied, loudly, ignoring the people complaining.

A laugh came from a group of boys sitting a few seats across. Diane was mortified.

"Arthur, please, sit down!"

However, Arthur ignored her completely and walked out of the aisle, ran down the steps and vanished out of the auditorium. Diane was left, alone, suitably annoyed and bewildered.

* * *

Arthur was a bit lost. Okay, so he was more than a bit lost. Initially, he had thought he recognised where he was because he saw a shop on the corner that was called the _co-operative _– it was a food shop. However, he had soon realised, that in this time, they had this same named shop everywhere. He would walk several miles in one direction and still be able to find an identical shop. That's why he was lost.

He now hadn't a clue which way Ellie's house was. This is what he'd dreaded before he went out. He had thought he would be all right if he stuck with Diane because she knew where she was going but now he'd left her he was completely and utterly disorientated.

And he was, looking at the cars whizzing by and the yobs in hooded jumpers, feeling a little bit anxious too - if he was being honest.

* * *

Ellie was furious. No, she was more than furious. She was livid, so much so that she was certain, had George not been in the kitchen with her then she would've throttled Diane as soon as she found out what happened.

She could not believe it. After she had specifically told all of her friends – _individually _– that she had left Arthur, who had been injured and was a bit weak and in need of care at the moment, with them that the bitch would go and do something like this behind her back.

Ellie had never particularly liked her housemate. To begin with, she had kept an open mind about Diane because she'd been part of the gang and up for a laugh just like the next person when they'd started university. She'd even, regrettably, agreed to move in with her and the rest of her friends after they finished their first year. That's when they all realised she was beginning to show signs of anorexia. Obviously, Ellie had been sympathetic and as a medical student had wanted to help. They had made sure she ate enough and got her back to a stable weight; encouraging her all the way.

However, her condition kept yo-yoing and Ellie grew fed up after she realised that Diane was only starving herself for attention. She wanted everyone to feel sorry for her and look after her. It even worked on George for awhile and they dated. That had truly crushed Ellie. George was her best friend and yet he was with the manipulative cow. Fortunately, they'd split a couple of months ago and now Ellie tried to have as little to do with her as possible.

But Diane had lost Arthur. So Ellie had to make Diane her business.

"All I did was flippin' touch him. I didn't know he would stress out. I thought he wanted it, he gave me the signals."

"Arthur doesn't know what 'signals' are," Ellie informed her, scathingly.

"Well, how was I supposed to know he was an anti-social freak?"

Ellie felt angry at that comment. "He's not. You're just a scheming slut who thinks all the boys love her. Now, where the hell did you last see him?"


	9. Home Alone

**Author's Note - I'm sorry for taking so long to update. Been very busy with holidays and stuff. Still got more to come so more absences. Thank you very much to Sock-Thief-Bandit, Lenaeuphoria, Basia Orci, Munku-JGSPTV, sucker4nethinghp, The-potato-knows-Merlin, MagicByMerlin, luvondarox, ToiletFacility, FireSenshi2, static-as-you-walk-away, Isis the Sphinx, laurajslr, Dawnmist 11 and Christina B. Phew. That was a lot of copying and pasting :)**

**Hope you like that chapter!  
**

**Oh, and I just wanted to point out to luvondarox that my description of Pippa was entirely from Merlin's biased view (as a lowly servant who has seen mostly dirty peasant women his whole life). I hate Mary-Sues as much as the next person and do try and avoid them. You will find out later a bit more of what she actually actually looks like. **

Merlin wasn't really sure what a television series was but judging by how much Pippa went on about it then it must be very important. However, he couldn't fathom why Arthur would be known this far in the future – and as a king. Despite knowing that his friend was destined for the throne and that it was his job, as chief protector, to get him there, Merlin had rarely thought about what it would actually entail to have Arthur as monarch. The boy had grown into a man, yes, but Merlin still didn't think he was ready to rule yet. Even so, it seemed that he did become king and was famous, infamous in fact, now.

Feeling rather put out that Arthur was having this television series named after him, Merlin decided he wanted to know more.

"And is this 'television series' a monument of some kind?"

"Don't be stupid. It's a show, you know, on the TV?" She gestured to a screen which was mounted on the wall, left of the cooker. To Merlin it just looked like a strangely dark mirror.

"That's a TV?" he repeated, knowing that he would have to learn as much about this world as he could in order to fit in and then, ultimately, get home.

Pippa stared at him for a moment and nodded. "Yes. Anyway, can you guess who I'm playing?"

"No." Merlin didn't really have much else to say.

"Guinevere, the queen."

"You mean Gwen?" The young man sounded confused. Since when had Gwen been queen? Surely, that meant that she would have to marry Arthur…….

He visibly paled.

"No, she's called Guinevere….though; actually, now you come to mention it, I suppose that could be shortened to Gwen. It's a bit of a common name though, isn't it? Not very noble."

"Gwen is short for Guinevere," Merlin nodded, "But she would never marry Arthur…..please say she never marries Arthur." He muttered the last sentence under his breath, as a kind of prayer.

Pippa laughed. "Of course she does. It's in the legend. Her and Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain, Sir Bedivere and all those lot – The Knights of the Round Table. And then there is Mordred, the evil guy and Morgan le Fay his mother. She coaxes King Arthur to bed with her which then produces Mordred."

Merlin gasped. "Mordred is Arthur's son?"

"That's what the legend says." Pippa shrugged.

"Is there a Merlin in the legend?" he queried, innocently.

"Oh, yes, you mean the great wizard Merlin? The old man with the beard and the pointed hat. Hey, were you named after him?"

"I do not have a beard," the young man exclaimed, indignantly, his voice going strangely high pitched, "Or a pointed hat!"

"Okay…" Pippa smiled slightly, "I wasn't saying you did. I was just asking whether you were named after him."

Fortunately, Merlin had enough sense to keep his mouth closed. Still, he was rather annoyed that Arthur had been portrayed as a young, gallant man through the ages and yet, somehow, Merlin's image had become one of a wizened old man. It was insulting. He was a year younger than Arthur after all!

However, he realised, if he was still being remembered all this time later – and for being a magician – then he must have done something right. Perhaps, sorcery had even returned to the land. The manservant desperately wanted to know more about the details but he knew that it was rude to keep persisting and also, maybe it wasn't such a good idea for him to know what happens to him in the end. Otherwise, he might not live his life to the full; it would always be overshadowed by his knowledge of what was to come.

There was an uncomfortable silence which had fallen across the room.

It was broken by a sudden trill sound. Merlin jumped in his chair.

"Oh, god, sorry, it's my phone." She looked at the strange block in her hand, her face falling. "Damn, I forgot, I've got to go and get my dress. I'll see you later."

Pippa left the room.

* * *

Feeling rather stupid, sitting at the wooden table alone, twiddling his thumbs, Merlin climbed to his feet and wandered casually over to a door which seemed to lead out onto a balcony. Trying the handle, he found it was locked but after a little searching he found the key and stepped outside.

The sky was a hazy blue. Different to how it used to be: when it was clearer and fresher and less polluted. Barely any clouds marred the heavens and the sun shone brightly, scorching the earth below. The light caught in Merlin's eyes for a moment, making it seem as though they flashed gold.

Merlin stared out at the city which spread for miles around. It was ridiculously huge and filled with crowded buildings of varying size and colour. Never before had the manservant seen so many houses in one place nor as many inhabitants that crawled around on the ground like ants. There was very little greenery in sight.

As a village boy, Merlin had grown up surrounded by fields and nature, with little huts to live in. This landscape was alien and he felt isolated in it. He could never imagine living here permanently. He didn't _want_ to live here permanently. It was essential for him to find a way home, back to his own time. But how could he do that? Where could he even begin? For instance, he'd been in a cave and read a spell that he now couldn't remember. There were no caves around here, at least not ones full of crystals….

The crystal.

An icy hand gripped Merlin's heart as he started with the revelation. That crystal, which he had been holding, was his link to his world – a key between the doors of time. And he had lost it. So now he was stranded with no way of returning home without something that had been stolen from him. The crystal could be anywhere in Bristol.

Feeling suddenly hopeless and overwhelmed with despondence, Merlin drew in a shuddering breath.

"Merlin." Once again, the unexpected noise made the manservant jump and he whacked his elbow on the wood of the balcony fence as he spun round. He winced in pain. "How did you get out here? Oh, it doesn't matter. I've got to go. Emergency at the hospital."

Nick caught sight of Merlin's face, saw he was about to speak, and held up his hand. "We'll discuss your….problems when I get back. I just don't have the time. You just hang around here for now. Don't leave. Entertain yourself with a book or the TV or whatever."

And then Nick was gone too.

Slightly disorientated by his host's abrupt departure, Merlin was still standing on the balcony, his mouth partially open from when he had been about to ask Nick a question. Slowly, he closed it and chewed his lip instead. Taking one glance at the scene he could see from the balcony, he went back inside. The apartment felt eerily empty, like the times Gaius left his chambers and went to deal with sickness in the outer villages for a couple of days. Merlin never knew what to do with himself in the huge, empty space. And this place was even more unfamiliar to him.

Initially, the young man decided that he wanted to explore the TV that Pippa had pointed out earlier. Tentatively, he padded over to it and put his hand on the screen, feeling the strange material it was made of. He ran his fingers over the grooves and knobbles, wondering how he was meant to make it work. It wasn't like he knew what it would look like if it worked.

After clicking several buttons, he came across a larger one and pressed down. The television made a buzzing noise and then sprung into life. Merlin leapt back as sound blared from the speakers and the screen flickered into a bright image. Several exotic animals seemed to be trapped in the slim box and Merlin was immediately entranced. A voice that seemed to come from nowhere explained that these were common zebra that lived on the plains of Africa – to the young warlock they looked like horses with stripes. They were tasty prey to the huge, deadly lions that roamed the land in prides.

Briefly, Merlin had considered the abnormality of it all but then passed it off as just another gadget of the future – like the instant water producing shower. Instead, he focused on enjoying the vivid spectacle.

The programme finished a short time later and shifted effortlessly into another show which seemed to revolve around buying old junk from people and then selling it on to more unwitting people. Finding the whole idea boring, Merlin switched off the TV and got a static shock for his troubles.

Then he proceeded to explore the kitchen.

It was an enlightening experience, perhaps even more so than the wildlife documentary, as he discovered: how to turn on the cooker (almost igniting his shirt in the process); what the buttons on a microwave did; where all the food was kept in a variety of multicoloured packaging; and, maybe his most exciting finding yet – the fridge.

When Merlin had opened the large white door, he had not expected to be blasted with a cold chill or the smell of cold meats which seemed to have been preserved in the extra icy cupboard without rotting. Intrigued, he began tasting each of them to see if they were indeed, all right to eat. It was as he realised that the sausages hadn't been cured in order to stop the bacteria setting in and therefore were uncooked that he stopped eating. That wasn't before consuming a glob of raw sausage meat however. He felt vaguely queasy.

Extending his survey of the apartment into a room which he hadn't been in yet, he found a living room. In his times, they didn't really have such a place but Merlin understood the concept was of relaxation and comfort. Just as he had sunk into a very squashy armchair, a bookshelf of brightly coloured volumes caught his eye.

Merlin had always enjoyed perusing Gaius' books….well, mainly the spell books, so these were very enticing to the young warlock. Springing to his feet, Merlin began to read the titles on the spines.

_Growth of Children: 0-10 years by Charles King_

_Understanding Behaviour by Arianna Belting_

_Toddler Teething Problems by Mary Howe_

_Emergency Procedures for Children by Samuel P. Smelting_

It was after he'd read about a dozen of these similar titles, that Merlin realised he'd found Nick's library of doctor books. Just as Gaius' massive medical tomes had never interested him, neither did these.

Searching another shelf, he found more promising paperbacks.

_My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult_

_Tamar by Mal Peet_

_Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman_

_1984 by George Orwell_

_Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen_

_Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger_

_Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini_

_Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J. K. Rowling_

Seeing that there were several novels with similar titles which all included Harry Potter, Merlin was intrigued and he pulled out the book. He read the back and quickly deciphered that this was in fact a series of books and this was not the first. After a period of shuffling through the volumes, which varied enormously in size, he found the most slender book which was entitled _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. _With the book in hand, he slumped into the armchair once more and began to read.

**Quite a short chapter. Sorry. It was in honour of Harry Potter coming out last week. :) Review!**


	10. Earning Paper Money

**Author's Note - Thank you very much to kesterel2106, Basia Orci, laurajslr, Christina B, static-as-you-walk-away, Isis the Sphinx, MagicByMerlin and Dawnmist 11 for reviewing. I am aware I may have lost some previous reviewers because of my shoddy updating schedule but please come back and read some more!**

**I may not update for a fortnight as going to Canada! Yay! Will try and put one more chapter up before I leave but no promises.**

Right, this is it, Arthur, time to get pro-active. Stop being a whimpering, cowering idiot. That's not you. You are a prince. The Prince of Camelot, no less. What would Father say if he saw you? He'd be ashamed, ashamed to call you his son. You need to take this all in your stride. Be a man.

Arthur's brain urged him on with a mixture of insults and encouragements. After years of having the mindset of a prince and great warrior drilled into him, he wasn't about to lose it now, even in this foreign culture. Therefore, his back straightened and his chin rose up, his nervous scuffle became a confident, self-assured swagger.

Nothing could touch him now.

The street was busy but, this time, Arthur wasn't fearful of all the fast moving, strangely dressed people. In fact, he spotted several extremely pretty girls and smiled at them charmingly. Compared to last time he ventured outside into this new world, when he'd been avoided and frowned at, he received flirtatious grins in return. Arthur credited this to his recent shower and new clothes. And, of course, his natural good looks.

He'd recovered from his discomfort at the cinema and was now in his element. It was as he was just about to saunter casually over to a young woman who was looking in a crowded shop window, her mahogany hair blowing in the light breeze, that he was stopped.

"Hey, mate, d'you mind helping me with this? There's a tenner in it." The red-faced man had sweat dripping from his temples and jerked his thumb behind him where there was an open lorry full of boxes. "They're full of clothes. Need ter take 'em in there." He pointed at the shop in front.

"Er…" Arthur floundered, not sure what a 'tenner' was. His better nature won through, though, and he shrugged. "Sure. Why not."

"Ta," the man smiled, "Me partner, Eddie, is ill and I had ter do this job on me own. Nice ter have an extra pair of hands."

It took the pair just over twenty minutes to shift the entire lorry-load into the upstairs of the shop. At the end of it, the fellow, who Arthur had discovered was called Jeff, clapped him on the back and hand him a crumpled piece of paper. It was much like the one that Ellie had handed the lady in the chip shop the day before and the one Diane had given the person at the cinema when she realised Arthur had no money.

Finally, Arthur had one.

He stared at it with awe. He couldn't really believe this was the currency. Still, he had some. Though he wasn't really sure how much it was worth. It was strange, not to have a lot of money. Usually he could buy what he wanted.

Jeff had noticed him staring. "Sorry, mate, I would have given yer more but that's all I got on me. Was meant ter be for my lunch but I weren't hungry."

"I…..no, it's fine. It's great. Thank you."

"Right-ho, see yer around." The man climbed into the cabin of his lorry and drove off.

Once again, Arthur was alone in the street, but this time with a ten pound note in hand. Not sure exactly what to do with it, he pocketed it. Perhaps, he could ask Ellie what he could buy later on. If he got back to her house, that is.

Meanwhile, though, maybe he could see if he could earn any more paper money. He would need as much as possible if he was to survive in this place. He couldn't very well live off Ellie. That was gentlemanly, wasn't noble. He wasn't a scrounger.

* * *

A couple of hours later and Arthur had a pocket of coins and notes. The notes varied in colour and the coins in size and shape but he had no idea what their worth was. None of them seemed to be made out of gold or silver. Not like the ones in his pocket, previously, which he had traded with an elated man in a shop full of shiny objects. For them he'd gained two notes that had £20 written on them.

He'd picked up several coins which had been abandoned on the pavement and in the gutter he'd even found a five pound note. Alongside those, he'd helped an elderly lady with her shopping and earned a couple of pounds even though he hadn't expected them. Really, he'd just helped the woman as she seemed to be struggling and it seemed like the gallant thing to do. He couldn't understand the fit young men that walked straight passed her without even stopping to help as she dropped her carrier bag. It was extremely rude.

Now, adding up the money simply by adding the numbers, Arthur discovered he had a grand total of £58.89. He wasn't certain whether that was a lot but it seemed decent enough for his day's efforts.

Suddenly, he spotted a place he recognised. It was where he had bought supper the previous day: the chip shop. Filled with relief, Arthur hurried in the direction in which he knew the house lay.

* * *

Ellie was dithering. She didn't know what to do about Arthur. Initially, she'd gone out to the area around the cinema and searched for him. But he hadn't been anywhere in sight. Then she'd returned home, hoping he would be there. When she discovered he wasn't, well, to be honest, she panicked.

If Arthur was indeed from the past, then he could be in a lot of trouble. Bundles of it judging by her previous experiences.

But what on earth could she do? Call the police. Even if they took her call seriously (a missing twenty something year old was hardly on their list of priorities) then what could they really do? Send a couple of fellows out to look in the city. Wasn't that what she'd just done? Besides, she could barely give them any details about him. She wasn't even certain of his surname. How could she make them search for a missing person from the past?

Just as she was about to grab her coat and venture outside into the fast fading light once more, the doorbell rang.

Assuming that it was one of her housemate's friends, Ellie sighed and hurried to the door and yanked it open. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw a rather windswept, bright eyed Arthur standing in front of her. There was a sheepish smile on his face.

The first words out of her mouth were: "How the hell do you know how to ring a doorbell?"

"Well, it's hardly rocket science." Arthur grinned; proud of his use of the phrase he'd only recently learnt.

"And where the hell have you been?!" Ellie punched him furiously on the arm. He winced. She did it again, just for good measure. "I've been worried sick. I didn't know whether to call the police but I could hardly call the police as I barely know you and…..argh." She hit him again.

"Will you stop hitting me?" Arthur yelped, rubbing his saw spot. "Can I come in, I'm freezing?"

Ellie scowled. "You don't deserve to be warm. After what you put me through. Maybe I should leave you out for the night." But she sighed and let him passed, shutting the door firmly behind him.

The two of them sat down at the big pine table, Ellie still glowering and Arthur still looking wary of another beating. Arthur weighed up asking her for something to eat; he was starving, but decided against it. She didn't look in the mood. Instead, he quelled his complaining stomach and waited for the onslaught that would undoubtedly come.

"You could have bloody died," Ellie finally said.

"Hardly," Arthur scoffed but regretted it immediately when he saw her face purple.

"You could have been run over, mugged, stabbed, _anything_! And I wouldn't have had the foggiest. Why did you run out on Diane? In fact, why did you even go out with Diane when I specifically asked you not to?!"

Arthur was standing his ground now. He would not be spoken to like this. The proud creature within him rose again. "You can't order me around. I will go where I like. I'm the Prince here. Next in line for the throne, I'll have you know."

"I don't give a flying rat's bottom. The only princes _here_ – in this time, real time! - are Harry and William. I don't think your name features, do you?"

"Harry and William?" Arthur looked puzzled.

"Yes and we have a Queen on the throne! I don't care what time you're from but you have no right to-"

"A _Queen_?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Ellie asked, contemptuously.

"Well, as a matter of fact I do, you see-"

"You know what, I don't care. I'm not wasting my time with a sexist, selfish, egotistical prat of a prince. I'm going to bed."

Throwing her chair back, so it clattered noisily on the floor, Ellie gave one last smouldering glare to the young man and then stormed from the room.

* * *

Buried deep under her duvet covers, still burning with fury, Ellie only just heard the door of her bedroom creak open. Her ears picked up the sound of heavy feet on the carpet. She tensed, desperately hoping it was George, coming to comfort her.

"Look, Ellie, I'm sorry."

Her insides clenched. It was Arthur. He had guts, she'd give him that. She was well known for her volcanic temper.

"I didn't mean to upset you….or make you worry. I didn't realise…..I mean, I wasn't even planning on getting lost, it's just your friend-"

"She's not my friend," Ellie muttered, angrily.

"Well, Diane, asked me to go and then I didn't like what she was doing….you see….she was touching my leg…."

"Dirty whore."

"Yeah," Arthur chuckled, softly, "That's what I thought. So I left. I didn't know where I was….didn't know how to get back here….I'm sorry….I really am. If it's any consolation, I made some money."

Ellie heard the chinking of coins.

Curiously, the girl threw away her previous anger and crawled out from within her duvet burrow. She was aware how dishevelled she must look but she hardly cared. Arthur looked very relieved to see her face wasn't still etched with fury.

"How did you make any money?" She paused. "Wait! You didn't steal it, did you?"

"No!" Arthur sounded offended. "Of course not. I earned it….well that, and sold some of my coins that seem to be useless here. Look." He held out the small pile of cash to her. "You can have it, for looking after me and stuff."

Ellie looked at the notes.

"No, it's all right. You keep it. You earned it."

"Oh, okay."

"Why don't we go to bed? I don't have work tomorrow and we can get up early to find this Merlin of yours. Do you think he'll know how to get you home?"

"I don't know. He's only a manservant, after all. But, I guess, he's _quite _intelligent."

"What's his surname? That might help."

"Um….I don't know. He comes from Ealdor…"

"You don't know? I thought he was your friend."

"He is…."

"Well, that's helpful."

**Review!**


	11. The Phone Call

**Author's Note - Wow, I've been away for aaaaages! Well, that's because I keep going on holiday so I'm sorry for that. The latest was two weeks in Cornwall. The weather was crap to be honest but sailing and surfing was great fun. **

**Got my GCSE results whilst I was down there. Thought I would share them with you as I'm reasonably proud: 8 A*s, 2 As and a B. Quite disappointed because I only got an A in English Literature, though. :( **

**Here is the next chapter. I think I need to watch some Merlin episodes to refresh my memory because I think Merlin is a bit OOC. Oh well, Arthur in the next chapter should be better though I don't know when that will be up.**

**Thank you to everyone for reviewing. That's: writing-at-random, Nikki Diamond, Scribe of Aurora, Lexxxy, KnightGuardian, TheDarkShadowedLight, brezy bri, The-potato-knows-Merlin, Isis the Sphinx, sucker4nethinghp, ToiletFacility, Basia Orci, laurajslr, MagicByMerlin, SarcasmMyAntidrug, Yuuki Toshi, Christina B and Dawnmist 11. Thank you guys for waiting soooo long!**

Six books lay strewn across the sitting room floor, several opened at various pages displaying neat lines of compact text. A couple of the books remained unopened, their brightly coloured covers each emblazoned with the same name and face: Harry Potter. His scar was prominent on all the pictures, a red lightning bolt shaped slash. It was his trademark.

The seventh book of the series sat comfortably in the lap of Merlin as he delved further into the world of Hogwarts with all its witches and wizards. The young warlock was enraptured by the entire thing. It was all beyond his wildest imaginings: a school for aspiring wizard folks to attend where they learnt magic and spells and transformations. Strangely, these people seemed to use weapons called wands to perform their jinxes and curses whereas Merlin had never had to use such apparatus. His magic just _was_.

And the magic, much to Merlin's excitement, was used for good deeds by the hero of the book, Harry Potter. He had to defeat the evil Lord Voldemort who had murdered his parents and many other people. Although Merlin had not read all seven books (they were way too long) he had skimmed to the end and discovered that Harry did indeed defeat the Dark Lord. That gave him a sense of euphoria. It could be done. Perhaps, his plight would have a similarly happy ending.

Trying out the so called spells in the novel such as _wingardium leviosa _and_ reparo_, Merlin was disappointed to discover that they didn't actually work or maybe he was just saying them wrong. He was eager to meet one of these wizards and learn how to perform the spells correctly.

Merlin was aware that the novels were fiction and not about real people but he also knew that all stories had to originate from the truth somewhere. That was the nature of stories. Therefore, he logically assumed that these people existed in society. Wizards like Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. They even had a mention of unicorns in the first book (which was the only one he'd read completely) so he knew they had something right.

There was something else he did pick up from these books, however, and that was that, even though magic was revered and respected by all the wizarding community, it was kept separate from the non-magical civilians. That worried him slightly. If, even in this day and age, humans and sorcerers could not live side by side then what hope on earth did he have?

An unhappy, nauseous feeling crept into the pit of his stomach.

Merlin decided that he should probably make a trip to the bathroom. That was one of the things he was really enjoying about the future so far. When you needed the toilet then you could use one that was clean and smelt relatively nice and flushed away the contents after you'd used it. It was ingenious. No more cleaning out the bucket back home if he could use the same system.

He was just pushing the door closed, after having emptied the contents of his stomach from that morning, when the most dreadful noise shrilled through the apartment. It was a mixture of a bell and girl shrieking, in Merlin's opinion. He jumped about a foot in the air when he first heard it. To begin with he tried to ignore it but the noise got more and more incessant. Eventually, the young man had to wince and follow the deafening racket to a strange device that hung on the wall.

There was part of it that seemed to come away from the wall so he picked it up and the noise stopped. Relief washed over him. Now he could get some peace. As he thought that, however, an odd buzzing sound was coming from the handset. Merlin lifted it gingerly to his ear and almost dropped the damn thing as he heard a voice scream "Hello?!"

"Hello? Hello! Nicholas, is that you being funny? Because it's not funny. Leaving your poor mother waiting…"

"Hello?" Merlin said tentatively, stopping the lady from the instrument mid-flow. The young man wondered whether she was trapped in there. Perhaps, it was a punishment for something. Maybe, she had been turned _into _whatever this thing was.

"Nicholas? That doesn't sound like you."

"My name's Merlin," Merlin replied, "Are you stuck in there, my lady?"

"Of course I'm not stuck, stuck where?"

"In this…..box."

"Don't be imbecilic. You are on the telephone, man. Are you simple?"

"No but…"

"You say Marvin's your name?"  
"No, Merlin."

"_Merlin_?"

"What a queer name. Though I suppose in this day nothing is too strange to name your child. I mean the kinds of complete and utter rubbish they come up with: Peaches, Coco and _Apple_! You would've thought they would've eaten before they named their offspring. Perhaps those poor mites might've fared better. Anyway, Merlin, could you tell me what you are doing answering my son's and my daughter's phone? Could I speak to one of them?"

Merlin was floundering, befuddled by this ranting woman on the other end of this 'telephone'. "Um…no, sorry, Pippa is out with a friend and Nick is working. I'm staying with them for a bit, you see. I….er….I work with Nick."

"Hmph…if you work with Nick then surely you should be working with him now?"

This threw the Merlin off kilter. "Oh, no, day off….um…er….I have to go now."

"Well, could you tell them I called? It's about the function. Anyway, good day to you Merlin."

Merlin felt mentally exhausted. Whoever that woman was, he never, ever wanted to meet her in person. He placed phone back in the cradle.

Then, dazed, he made his way back into the kitchen. His stomach was rumbling. Maybe now would be a good time for lunch. Perhaps he could try and cook some of those raw sausages he'd found in the fridge with the cooker that he'd worked out how to use. Opening the white door of the refrigerator, Merlin perused the contents and plucked out the objects he wanted.

He lined up his ingredients on the counter. There were a few sausages (like the ones he'd had just that morning), some carrots that had been lurking at the bottom of the vegetable draw, a block of cheese and a small pot of left over pasta. To Merlin it was quite a feast. Excited, he set about turning the hob on so that he could fry his sausages.

Not sure what to cook the sausages in, he rummaged in the cupboards and found a sauce pan that he placed on the hob. Then he put the sausages in it and waited, humming quietly to himself. After a time, the smell of burning assaulted his nostrils. He flipped over his sausages and saw that the meat was now black on one side rather than a nice brown. Wishing to cover up the blackness, Merlin grabbed the cheese and threw the entire thing in followed by the carrots (which he had peeled and chopped by magic). Finally, once the cheese had formed a gloopy, greasy slime in the bottom of the pan, he chucked in the pasta. Now he had a yellow mess with charred bits of sausage floating around in and uncooked carrots.

Merlin frowned confusedly at the disgusting concoction he had created. He now realised why, whenever he had offered to help his mother or Gaius in the kitchen, they had refused point blank. He was not a good cook.

Deciding that he might as well pull the whole thing off the cooker and start again, Merlin grabbed the edge of the saucepan forgetting that metal was piping hot when heated. He cried out in agony as heat seared his hand. Reflexively, he dropped the entire contents of the pan to one side so it landed on the naked flame below.

_Whuumph. _

With the added fuel of greasy cheese, the fire grew in size, forcing Merlin back, away from the heat. He shielded his eyes.

Merlin knew that he needed to perform a spell to stop the flames spreading but he couldn't remember a single one. He desperately battled with his mind to think of a spell that he could use. Anything!

And then water came from nowhere, pouring down on him from above. In seconds he was drenched but, fortunately, the fire was out. Where had that water come from? Merlin looked around him, baffled. Then he noticed that in the ceiling just above the cooker were some silver things that looked like miniature shower heads. That must have been where the downpour came from but how on earth did it know when to pour water down?

He was just about to investigate when the banging of a door stopped him in his tracks.

"What the hell happened here?!" It was Nick back from his emergency.

Merlin looked sheepish. "Well, you see…um….I was….cooking…."

Nick was suddenly beside him, staring into the blackened pan, incredulously. "I can see that!" He looked up. "And you set the sprinklers off."

"I did?"

"You did. Geez, I leave you alone for what…" Nick looked at a funny device on his wrist. "Four hours and you achieve this amount of destruction."

"It was an accident."

"I'm sure it was. Perhaps next time you should eat cold food and leave the cooking to me!"

"Sorry," Merlin mumbled.

Nick looked at him and immediately felt bad. He was a sorry sight. This pale, skinny lad whose raven black hair was plastered to his head and whose borrowed, too big clothes were dripping with water. His hastily stitched up cut on his forehead was stark against his white skin and Nick could see a nasty welt on his hand from where the pan must've burnt him. And he didn't even remember where he lived. In Nick's opinion, he really needed help.

So, despite his better judgement, the young man was going listen to his ridiculous ideas.

"It's fine. No harm done," the doctor said, "Except to you. Sit down and let me see your hand."

Merlin did as he was asked for fear of upsetting his kind rescuer further. Nick was his only friend in this alien world and he didn't really want to lose him. Obligingly, he held out his injured hand.

"Hmm….there's not much I can do for you to be honest. It's not bad enough for a dressing. You'll just have to let it heal of its own accord."

Merlin nodded mutely, still watching Nick warily like a child waiting to be smacked. The young physician felt guilty for shouting at him. How he could he be angry at someone who looked so innocent and vulnerable?

"Look, Merlin, I want you to tell me everything. I promise I won't interrupt. I'll tell you my verdict at the end. Just…shoot."

**Review! Please!**


	12. Bus Ride

**Author's Note - Thank you very much for the congrats on my results and thank you most of all for reviewing: MagicByMerlin, MegElemental, Ashabagawa, allthenamesiwantedweretaken, MerlinWorld, Vampishelf, The-potato-knows-Merlin, ToiletFacility, laurajslr, brezy bri, writing-at-random, Nikki Diamond, Isis the Sphinx  
and Scribe of Aurora.**

**To Vampishelf, a lorry is a truck in America and the cabin is the bit at the front where the driver sits. You probably have a different name.**

The morning was cold and a chilly breeze whipped up goose pimples on Arthur's exposed arms. He was still in the same black t-shirt that he had worn the day before and therefore didn't have much protection. He had wanted to wear his shirt from his own time but, much to his dismay, he discovered that Ellie had thrown it out. She defended her actions saying that it was 'rancid' and there was 'nothing that could have been done to save it'. The same seemed to have gone for all his other clothes. Fortunately, he still had his precious necklace round his neck.

Looking over at Ellie, he saw that she was wrapped up warmly in a black winter coat with a thick scarf around her neck.

"Would there be any chance of me acquiring a coat? It's bloody freezing," Arthur asked through chattering teeth.

Ellie looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Arthur, I'm not made of money. I can't just magic a coat-"

"I'm not asking you to do magic!" Arthur interrupted abruptly.

"It was an expression," Ellie frowned, "Anyway, I would've got one of the boys' jackets but they're all out at lectures and their rooms are locked so I couldn't."

"Fine." The prince shivered, disgruntled.

"You could use your earned money, though," Ellie suddenly suggested.

"Maybe I will."

"_Primark_ will probably be the best bet. We can get you more for less there, considering you need practically a whole new wardrobe. There's one near the park."

The two of them set off at a reasonable pace along the deserted street. They were heading for where Arthur had first come through the supposed 'time portal'. That was a place called Victoria Park. However, in order to get there they would either have to walk several blocks or catch a bus which would drop them off at the gates. Ellie was contemplating taking Arthur on a bus and whether that would actually be a good idea or not. She also had to consider whether she had enough change to spare an extra fare.

They reached the bus stop and Ellie looked at Arthur, seeing that he was still shivering, and decided that it would probably be kinder to the poor man to get on a warm bus. She couldn't help feel it was justice though, for what he'd put her through last night.

Sighing, she fished in her bag for her purse and pulled out a handful of change. That should be enough. Hopefully.

Fortunately, their transport arrived pretty soon and Ellie led Arthur on. She made sure he stayed behind her whilst she did the talking. Then she dragged him along the length of the vehicle to a seat at the back. That way he couldn't embarrass her too much.

"So," Arthur said as they pulled out of the lay-by, "This is a bus."

"Yes."

Arthur nodded, adding that word to his growing bank of vocabulary from this strange century. There was so much to learn and if he was to find Merlin then he needed to fit in as much as possible. No one would help him if he was too odd.

"I did have a car," Ellie said, "But I had an accident last year and totalled it."

"Totalled?"

"Destroyed it so it didn't work anymore."

"Oh…how?" In Arthur's opinion those car things looked pretty tough.

Ellie seemed to have gone slightly pale. The young man wondered what he'd said to provoke such a reaction. She swallowed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Arthur wasn't sure why she had suddenly clammed up considering she had brought up the subject but he shrugged and didn't press further. It wasn't in his nature delve into peoples' pasts or dig up their personal problems. If they wanted to keep them to themselves then that was their decision. Arthur didn't need or particularly want to know. It made things considerably easier.

As an awkward silence had fallen on the pair, Arthur took to staring out of the slightly smeary window. He watched the houses pass by and the shops and the people who were out and about. It was strange to be in this vehicle without knowing how exactly it moved or worked. With a horse you knew it worked because you fed it and then it moved with its legs, using energy from the food. These cars and buses had no visible means of propulsion.

They had to halt several times along the way to pick up people at various bus stops. Each time a person stepped onto the vehicle, Arthur watched them take their seats, analysing their clothes and their voices and their hairstyles. Everyone here was so different. He couldn't believe that it was the future of his kingdom to turn into this.

"This is our stop," Ellie stated.

The bus was slowing down once again. To Arthur's surprise, the woman stood up whilst they were still on the move and began making her way down the aisle. His eyes widened in surprise. He didn't think you were allowed to do that. Did he follow?

He tensed in his seat.

Ellie turned round and beckoned to him. Reluctantly, Arthur stood up and followed her, feeling rather unsteady. He had to grab several chair backs on the way down the small flight of steps which were inexplicably in the middle of the bus. However, once he was on the flat part of the floor he felt safer.

Just as he gained his confidence in standing without holding onto anything, the bus gave an almighty jerk and knocked Arthur completely off his feet. He stumbled and fell into Ellie. She let out a cry of surprise and thumped painfully into the wall. Recovering quickly, the girl sent the young man a exasperated glare and then proceeded to haul him bodily off the vehicle with a quick thank you to the driver.

As soon as they were on solid ground, Arthur felt that he could breathe a sigh of relief. You knew where you were when the ground didn't move.

He looked over at Ellie. "I'm sorry for-"

"Its fine," the young woman sighed, "I didn't know you were quite such an oaf though. I thought you were meant to be a knight of the realm, brilliant horseman and swordsman and all that. Shouldn't you have decent balance and coordination?"

"Hey, don't question my knight skills!" Arthur said, indignantly.

"Knight skills?" Ellie spluttered with laughter. Arthur laughed too, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his exclamation. "Come on, let's go to the park."

* * *

There was a football pitch in the park. Well, that's what Ellie told Arthur it was. On it, some young men were warming up; performing a variety of stretches and jogging up and down in the freezing weather. There were two teams, dressed in different colour strips. One lot were clad in yellow and blue stripes and the others were in red.

As they walked along the path to where Arthur had been found, bleeding profusely from his nose, the prince watched the footballers bring out white balls which they began to kick around. He guessed they were meant to get the balls in the nets at either end of the pitch. It didn't look too hard in his opinion.

However, he couldn't stop to watch it begin as Ellie was chivvying him along in order to get to the cricket pitch beside the pond which is where he had said he came through. Arthur was very good at remembering things and he could track himself to exactly the same spot he had been sat on when he came through. He crouched down and surveyed the world from that position. Yes, this was the place.

"So it was here?" Ellie asked, looking at him observing the scenery. A particularly stiff breeze blew past just at the point and she shivered, wrapping her coat more firmly round her. She sort of felt sorry for Arthur in his flimsy t-shirt but there wasn't much she could've done, short of wrapping him a blanket. Her clothes were way too small.

"I'm certain of it," Arthur stated.

"Ok…right….hmmm….well, if you came through here then, logically, it makes sense that Merlin would've come through at a similar spot."

"I didn't see him though."

"When?"

"When I appeared. He wasn't on this field."

"Oh….well, that puts a spanner in the works." Ellie frowned to herself and spun in a full circle.

Arthur thought that was rather amusing. What did she expect to see? Some glimmering clue that told her exactly where Merlin was? It didn't work like that. He knew from past experience.

Finally she turned back to face him, a despairing expression on her young features.

"I'm already stuck."

Suddenly her phone rang. Arthur jumped and then shook himself angrily for reacting in such a stupid way as she pulled the device from her pocket.

"Hello?" She began but before she could get any further a speeding ball flew from nowhere and struck her, heftily, on the head. The phone was knocked from her hands.

The young prince leapt forwards, concern etched across his face. "Are you all right?" he asked as he checked her head for damage. Ellie looked at him for a moment, looking a little dazed, and then shook her head vigorously. "Don't do that!" he cried, horrified. He may not have much medical training but he felt sure you weren't supposed to do that.

"Its fine," the woman pushed him away, feeling slightly uncomfortable at their proximity. She had found he was surprisingly warm considering his lack of clothes – and woody smelling.

They stood, facing one another, both feeling awkward and not knowing what to say next.

Suddenly, they spotted a boy running up to them, an apologetic look on his face. "I'm so sorry. Are you ok?" He directed the last part at Ellie. She nodded, smiling slightly.

Arthur, however, was not half as forgiving.

"You should be more careful, boy; you could've seriously injured her. In my kingdom, ladies…."

"Arthur, shut up!" Ellie hit the man on his arm and then kicked the fallen ball, gently, back to its master.

Thanking her, the youngster made his escape as swiftly as possible, almost tripping over himself in his attempt. Ellie sighed and turned to Arthur. "You are such an idiot."

"I am not!"

"_Yes,_ you are. Come on, let's go shopping."

"I don't really like the sound of that."

"Yeah, well it's not exactly causing me to jump for joy either. Do you have any idea what size you are because _Primark_ changing rooms are a bitch?"

"Well, the tailor comes and…."

"Oh, forget it."

**Primark is just a big very cheap shop for those of you that don't know. Review, even though I know the chapter wasn't that great. I really need more of a plot. Lol. :)**


	13. Weight Problems

**Author's Note - I can guess why there were less reviews for the last chapter, because it was s***. I know that but I needed to get one out and get on. I will try and improve the length and the general quality. Sometimes I have lapses where my writing goes to pot. :( Anyway, thanks for those few that did review and that was sucker4nethinghp, ****writing-at-random****, ****Nikki Diamond****, ****MagicByMerlin****, ****Moonstar 11**** and ****Basia Orci****. Special thanks to MagicByMerlin for unending support :D**

**Anyway, I quite like this chapter, I feel it has more substance than some of my previous ones. Perhaps, by substance I mean more description but ah well. I think this is my best Merlin one to date. I feel I have got him in character well. However, your opinions would be welcome. **

**For those wondering when Merlin and Arthur will meet. They will meet within the week of them being there. Estimation....3 or 4 chapters.**

**Ooh! And something I forgot to say last update for those of you who don't already know, MERLIN IS BACK ON THE 19TH SEPTEMBER! Eeek! So excited, especially as its the day after my birthday. :) Keep thinking about it and *squeeing* inside. **

It was in a new light that Nick Collingridge was regarding Merlin 'the man he'd found on the street'. Initially, he had thought him a drunken student, lost and alone in the dark back alleys of Bristol. Having taken him home and discovered he wasn't drunk but still spouting nonsense, Nick had assumed that he was perhaps an escapee from a psychiatric hospital. Now though, everything made sense….well, half sense.

Obviously, it was difficult to fathom time travel, it was something best left to the likes of _Doctor Who _and _Back to the Future _but Merlin was so honest and so convincing that Nick was left with very few options except to believe the stranded man. He explained the entire story of how he ended up here by – can you believe it, magic – and how he had served Prince Arthur for the past year or so and defeated monsters that the 21st century man had only heard of in fairy tales.

Now, all Nick could think was: is this youth really the one who will grow into the greatest wizard of all time? The silver bearded, cloaked warlock who inspired characters the likes of Albus Dumbledore, Gandalf and Prospero. He was a legend. Merlin shouldn't be sitting in his kitchen talking to him and trying to get him to believe that he was a time traveller. It was absurd.

And he _was_ so young. Not at all how Nick had ever imagined him; though he supposed that everyone had to be 'young' at some point in their lives. But, if he thought back to when he had watched _Disney's 'The Sword in the Stone' _then this version of Merlin was completely different to that one. He didn't think anyone had really imagined the infamous warlock as a child, struggling with his powers and his identity.

To be honest, the man sitting in front of him was fairly ordinary looking. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. He did have some features about him that made him unique, perhaps, more magical if you perceived it in that way. For instance, he was uncommonly pale and his cheek bones were unnaturally high on his face – defined possibly by his thinness. Also, his hair was raven black on his head which, paired with his porcelain skin and sky blue eyes, gave him unusual and often desirable characteristics.

But those eyes….they were strange; it was like they had extra hidden depths…

"Nick? Are you all right?"

The voice caused him to jump from his rambling thoughts and into reality. He saw Merlin staring at him with a slightly worried expression on his face.

"Yes, fine, fine. You say that you need to find this crystal that was stolen from you?"

"Yup."

"Do you remember the man who stole it from you?"

"Nope."

"Do you remember what the crystal looked like?"

"Vaguely."

"Hmm…._well_, that's a lot of useful information to go on. Not." Nick sighed, heavily to himself, and leant back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Could you not use your…magic….to you know, magic it back here?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I haven't mastered that kind of spell yet. Do you know any other wizards that could?"

Nick, literally, spluttered. "How many wizards do you reckon I know, Merlin?"

Merlin shrugged.

"The answer is zilch. Well, unless I count you. I suppose we could go to the police but considering we didn't report it as soon as it happened and we barely have a decent witness account then I hardly think it will help. This is down to us."

"Right…." The young warlock paused and nodded, as if collecting his thoughts. "So what do you think we should do?"

"Okay, so scratch that, essentially this is down to me."

"And Pippa."

"Oh, no, there's no way I'm getting Pip involved in this," Nick replied, vehemently, "Don't you tell her _anything, _got it?"

There was a moment's silence and then suddenly Nick sat up in his chair and clicked his fingers. "You know what, I have an idea."

Merlin looked expectantly at him, waiting for him to spill. Instead, he jumped up from the table and hurried from the room. "So are you going to tell me?" Merlin shouted from his seat, going to get up.

"Stay here, I will be back soon!" Nick yelled back and then the front door slammed.

"Obviously not then," the man sighed, dropping back in his chair.

* * *

Evening had fallen and Merlin had taken the liberty to draw all the curtains in the apartment. He had scrounged some bread rolls from the bread bin and was eating them whilst sprawled out on a leather sofa. He had never sat on anything quite so comfortable in his life. His body sank into the arm rests and the whole chair seemed to mould exactly to his shape. It was wonderful. He wondered why they sat on such hard, uncomfortable chairs back home.

In one hand he held a small, plastic object which he had worked out controlled the massive television in the corner of the room. At the moment, he was channel hopping, finding great joy in experiencing anything and everything on TV.

Eventually, he settled on a programme about the houses. People seemed to be buying ready made houses, rather than building their own, and they were massive, the sizes of manors. However, to Merlin's absolute astonishment, they were claiming that some of the rooms in a newly renovated cottage were too small. He couldn't believe that. In his time, they _lived _in a room that size; a whole family.

He had to admit all these houses were rather beautiful and so clean with huge windows and vast amounts of ceiling space. They were filled with fabulous furniture which was covered in luxurious materials or made of gorgeously crafted wood. Half of the things wouldn't look out of place in Camelot Castle and yet the presenters of the show were claiming that these houses were at the lower end of the budget.

What really got him, however, was the fact that the woman buying the house with her husband looked uncannily like Merlin's mother, Hunith. Up to this point, he had thought of her but not really missed her. Nevertheless, seeing this woman now changed his opinions. It made him consider the idea that he would never get home and never see his family or his friends ever again. He didn't like that prospect. His mother would miss him undoubtedly but as he had already been away from Ealdor then she may not find out for quite some time, perhaps even never. And he guessed that Gaius would notice his absence, having declared that he was like the son he'd never had. But it was Merlin's newfound friendships with Gwen, the Lady Morgana and Arthur that the young man would most sorely miss. He wondered whether they would miss him. They had all followed him to Ealdor to fight but would they search through the forests and caves around Camelot in order to find him? Would they presume him dead? What would Arthur do without him? The prophecy would be left unfulfilled.

Merlin _had _to get back. He just hoped that Nick really had a good idea of how to find his crystal. He'd been gone a very long time; was that a good thing?

As if his thinking of Nick had summoned the man himself, Merlin heard the front door open loudly. Then, surprisingly, he heard the sound of crying – gut-wrenching, heart-breaking crying – that couldn't be Nick, could it?

"Nick?" The voice was desperately pitiful.

Merlin jumped to his feet and hurried into the kitchen. There, he came across the distraught figure of Pippa standing in the middle of the room. Her body was wracked with shuddering sobs. The young man was distressed by her appearance.

"Pippa, what's wrong?" He took one step tentatively towards her.

He'd never been good with crying woman or girls for that matter. He recalled one time when he was younger and he and Will had been playing with one of the village girls, Harper, in the trees. Harper had always been a bit of a tomboy and enjoyed hanging around with them doing rough-tough activities. She was very nice. In fact, if Merlin remembered correctly, he had fancied her quite a lot. However, one time they had climbed a huge tree and then, unfortunately, a branch had snapped and the girl lost her footing. She fell about ten feet and broke her arm. Both boys had shimmied down the tree to her aid but, upon seeing she was crying, Merlin had backed off, floundering. It was Will who had comforted her until the adults came.

"Where's Nick?"

"I-I'm sorry, he's not here. Is there anything I can do to…help?" Merlin was unsure of himself and how to react.

"Oh no." A fresh wave of tears washed down her face and she let out a little snort. "I can hardly ask you to listen. We're practically strangers." She wiped her red blushed cheeks fiercely.

"I'm a good listener," the warlock offered, hesitantly.

Pippa paused and looked at him fully, as if seeing him for the first time.

Suddenly she burst: "They said I need to lose weight!"

"Who?"

"The people running the television show."

"Why on earth would they say that?" the manservant questioned, incredulously.

"Because I'm fat. That's why. A woman of that era would not have had huge thighs and a squidgy belly. Look at this." Teary eyed, she pulled up her t-shirt and grabbed at a bit of flesh from her stomach. She stared at it with loathing. "See! I'm hideous."

And then she ran from the room.

Merlin was astounded. Never in a million years would he have thought Pippa to be hideous. He had actually thought her curvy parts added to her attraction showing she was happy and comfortable and well-off. It also showed more strength than if she'd been a stick of a thing - weak and practically non-existent. She would be able to bear the burden of a child well….though Merlin wasn't entirely sure why he was thinking like that.

Why should anyone want or be told to lose weight? He was forever being told to _gain _weight.

He was hit by a sudden wave of anger. No one should be allowed to upset a lady like that. It wasn't right. If he was Arthur then he would've marched right up to whoever the person was and give them a seeing to but, as he wasn't actually Arthur, he decided to be slightly less bold and follow Pippa to her bedroom.

Conscious of his intruding, Merlin gently pushed open the door to the young woman's room and peered cautiously round the corner. He spotted Pippa, curled up in a ball on her bed, as if somehow by making herself as small as possible she could escape more hurt.

"Pippa?" he called, softly.

There was no reply.

Slowly, he began to pad across the room, noticing as he went that his bare feet made no noise whatsoever on the soft carpeted floor. This would make creeping round the castle so much easier than wooden floors and heavy boots.

It was as he was upon the bed that he began having second thoughts. What if Pippa didn't want him here? What if she was angry with him? As she had already pointed out, they were barely more than strangers. Still, he couldn't stand to see her so troubled and alone.

Tentatively, he perched himself on the edge of the bed. Then he took a deep breath.

"I don't think you're hideous," he said, "I think you're beautiful."

There was such earnestness in his voice that no one could have questioned the sincerity of his statement. Even Pippa had to uncurl herself and stare at him with mascara streaked cheeks.

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"I do." Merlin nodded, his bright blue eyes transfixing her, telling her to believe him. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

"There's no need to go that far."

"Honestly."

"Well, you can't have met many women then."

"No, I assure you I've met a lot of beautiful women," Merlin replied.

Pippa let out a little chuckle, sniffing as she did so.

"You make it sound like an everyday occurrence."

"Well, I do or did see Morgana everyday," Merlin smiled slightly, "But your beauty even surpasses hers."

"Aw, stop with the compliments now, you're making me embarrassed," Pippa hit him playfully on the arm with one hand whilst wiping her face with the other. "Could you pass me a tissue?"

"Tissue?"

"The box, there."

"Oh."

"Ta." Pippa blew her nose noisily on the little white floaty thing and then mopped under her eyes with another. "Anyway, I bet I don't look that great now."

"Of course you do." Merlin grinned, his broad, ear to ear grin. Pippa flushed which made the young man smile even more.

Then she said, "So, if you don't mind me asking, what are you still doing here?"

"Um…Nick said I could stay for a little while, in his bedroom of course," Merlin added the last part in a rush, looking at his surroundings. Pippa sniggered again.

"Of course," she agreed. "Have you eaten?"

"Some bread."

"You could've helped yourself to anything." The girl was climbing to her feet now, inspecting herself in the mirror.

"I…er…don't know how to cook."

"Don't know how to cook?" Pippa turned on him, chocolate eyes wide with shock. "Well, then, I shall have to teach you. Come, learn from a master." She grabbed his hand and hauled him up.

* * *

Nick returned home to find his younger sister and Merlin sitting in the kitchen. The remnants of what seemed to be chicken curry sat on the side and several pans were piled in the sink. Two glasses sat on the table beside the pair, one filled with water and the other orange juice. Between them sat a deck of cards along with a fan in each of their hands.

Merlin looked up as he came in.

"No luck," Nick replied before he could voice the question. Pippa looked between the two of them but seeing she wasn't going to be included, shrugged. "You two haven't cracked into the wine then?"

"What? The one Mum gave us? Nah, Merlin says he doesn't? Or shouldn't drink?" The woman looked at her companion for the correct statement.

"Shouldn't. As my uncle would put it: one whiff of a barmaid's apron and I'm singing like a sailor."

"And I'm not because I'm going on a diet. See: water." Pippa tapped the glass.

"Diet? What? Why?"

"Andy, the director, has asked if I can lose weight. He did it civilly, of course, but I could tell that it was a 'do this or you won't have the part anymore' suggestion. I need to go from a size 12 to a size 10."

"A whole dress size? How long have you got?"

"Well, we start filming in two days but he said its okay for the start. I have two weeks."

"And you're going for it?"

"Yup."

Nick nodded and then slipped his coat off before dropping into a seat beside Merlin. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up further (if that was possible). He then peered interestedly at the cards in the warlock's hand.

"What you playing?" he asked.

"German Wist. Merlin says he's never played it before but he's doing surprisingly well." Pippa frowned as she looked at her hand.

Nick looked at the young man's hand again and saw that it had changed. He blinked and then looked at Merlin who grinned as his eyes flashed golden.

"Want to play?"

"I think I'll pass, thanks," Nick laughed as Merlin bit his lip.

**I hope you enjoyed that. I will explain what Nick's idea was next chapter in case you're wondering. If you're stuck on references then just google them :)**

**REVIEW!**


	14. Shopping

**Author's Note - Okay, my prediction is two chapters until they meet....three at tops. Don't know how long they'll take to come though. What with school starting again I'm kind of busy. **

**Thanks to: sucker4nethinghp, darkfire, NuniaKin, POtato, laurajslr, MegElemental, MagicByMerlin, Qyu, Becca1938, Moonstar 11, writing-at-random, Vampishelf, Basia Orci, Isis the Sphinx and Nikki Diamond.  
**

The place was huge and crawling with people. They filled every aisle and nook and cranny; looking at clothes, pulling them off hangers and trying them on. A line at the checkout extended throughout the store like a long winding snake which rippled and gossiped the entire time. Bright lights hung from the ceiling casting an unnatural glow on everything below and a strange smell assaulted the nostrils as one entered the bustling shop.

Arthur had to take it all in for a moment before he could actually enter the shop; he had never seen anything like it. Not even the market, on its busiest days, had been this crowded. He froze in the entranceway and was surprised when a large lady shoved rudely past him, knocking her heavily laden shopping bags into his ribs as she went. He was quite offended that she hadn't even bothered to ask him to move. There was no point in worrying about that now though because Ellie was ahead of him, already vanishing among a sea of heads.

"Ellie?!" he called, frantically. He began to push his way through the torrent of people but there were so many that he kept getting stuck and then carried backwards. It was like fighting against the current of a river.

Suddenly she turned and noticed that he was not right behind her. For a moment her eyes looked fearful but then she caught sight of him and groaned before running to save him.

Once he was safely out of the onslaught of women, Arthur could breathe a sigh of relief. He felt he could get air in his lungs again. Ellie though, seemed to have other ideas.

"Okay, well, I'd say, sizing wise, you were a medium."

"Right…" Arthur nodded, slowly, whilst biting his lips and then abruptly shook his head, "If I knew what that meant then I'd agree with you."

Ellie made a face. "Oh, yeah, I forgot Mr. 'I get my clothes tailor-made'."

"I can't help it if I'm wealthy," the prince shrugged.

"Medium is the size in the clothes. So you look on the collar or the hanger in order to see the size and the price. Try not to go too expensive as you only have about sixty quid. Remember, you need a coat, probably a jumper, some t-shirts and some underwear. Oh, and shoes!"

"Why do I have to remember? Surely, you'll be with me." The young man frowned, seeing he was missing something.

"No, we'll split up, that way we can get stuff more quickly. We'll meet back here in half an hour, okay?"

"Wait! You can't leave me," Arthur began but Ellie was gone.

Arthur couldn't help but have the feeling that he was about to go on some perilous, exhausting quest – a sick, nervous feeling. He really didn't want to do this at all. Obviously, he needed clothes but couldn't they go somewhere quieter and less busy? The man felt sure that as soon as he took one step in any direction then he would be wiped out by another woman who was in a hurry with her bags. Still, he had to do it.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur began to walk. This wasn't so bad; people were getting out of his way now. That was probably because he was walking so fast that he was practically running. Oh well, it had the desired effect.

The men's clothes seemed to be at the back, hidden away behind all the ladies' much gaudier, florally items. It was sort of a relief to step into an area of greys, browns and blues. Not that he didn't like wearing bright colours, half his wardrobe back home was Pendragon red after all, but it was less crowded here too. He had space to move.

As Arthur had never really 'browsed' for clothes in his life, he wasn't quite sure what to do. There seemed to be so many racks and so many different types of garments that he wasn't really sure where to start. One would've thought there would be an order, like, first get your underwear, then your trousers and then move onto t-shirts. However, there was just a mishmash of outfits all over the place.

Still, he had to begin somewhere.

* * *

Arthur was bored of shopping. He'd had enough of perusing the endless aisles of similar clothes. He couldn't understand how the women in here seemed to do it for so long. For example, take that lady dressed in a leather jacket; she'd been here all the time Arthur had and before, just wandering around the shop. It was ridiculous. Surely, she could do something better with her time? Like go for a horse ride….well, perhaps not. Did they even ride horses here anymore?

He wouldn't mind if the shop was filled with food but clothes didn't really do it for him. Speaking of food, he was kind of hungry. Where was Ellie?

Oh yeah, he was supposed to be meeting her.

Groaning to himself, Arthur gathered the pile of clothes he'd accumulated and headed to the place that they'd started out from. Once again he had to weave in and out of several people in order to get where he wanted. If he had been in Camelot then they would've moved out of his way naturally, aware that he was a Prince and therefore should be respected. Being a normal person would take some getting used to.

"Arthur!" Ellie called to him and grinned. He smiled back.

In her slender arms, she held a pair of shoes and what looked like a coat though Arthur couldn't be sure because he was used to moleskin jackets rather than the strange attire of this day and age.

He hurried over to her.

"I got the more difficult stuff," she smirked, "What shoe size are you by the way? Eleven?"

"Well thanks," Arthur said, sarcastically, crossing his arms, "Oh and I don't know."

"You're useless. You can't keep wearing those grotty boots around the place. They're gross. Here…"

She leant down and grabbed Arthur's foot, almost dragging him over in the process.

"Whoa!" Arthur yelped. He grabbed at her bent back in order to regain his balance. "What are you doing?!"

"Hmm…" Ellie held her shoe up to his boot sole, "Ah, what the hell, it's roughly the same size. If you get squished toes then so be it." The girl smiled at him and dropped his foot.

"Thanks for that," Arthur said, dryly.

"My pleasure," Ellie retorted.

They both pulled faces at one another.

"Well, we might as well go join the huge queue at the checkout now, its not going to get any shorter."

"Oh, joy."

* * *

Arthur had to admit, as nice as hanging out with Ellie was and experiencing this new culture with all its strange and exotic customs, he was beginning to get homesick. He missed the castle, with its towering turrets and draughty corridors and the hundreds of steps you had to climb to get anywhere. He missed his own bedroom, with its huge four poster bed; Ellie's inflatable lilo was hardly anything in comparison (if not an interesting concept).

He missed, perhaps slightly selfishly, being waited on by people, having his clothes laid out for him, his meals served without a fuss and on time. So far, he'd learnt that Ellie was, to be honest, a terrible cook.

He even missed the company of Morgana with her haughty demeanour and aloofness. What he wouldn't give to have another inane argument with her…or his father for that matter. Arthur had to admit that he wouldn't even mind being insulted by Uther if he was allowed back home.

But most of all, he was astonished to confess, that he missed Merlin. That lovable, completely useless-most-of-the-time servant with whom he had shared a lot of good and dreadful times. He would even go as far to acknowledge that they were friends now, loyal to one another and willing to risk their necks for one another. Arthur wasn't in any doubt whether his manservant would give up his life for his master's. Merlin was just like that.

And the thought of his young comrade stranded here, in this huge city, sickened him slightly. Ellie had already warned him of the dangers of wandering around on his own. Admittedly, Arthur could probably defend himself against the worst of it but Merlin, Merlin who could barely wield a sword; he could be in great danger. The prince just hoped he'd found someone as nice as Ellie to take him in too.

Fortunately, Ellie had already checked all the hospitals to see if they had a Merlin listed but so far none of them had said they had. That was a good thing, wasn't it? It meant he wasn't injured. Or, maybe, it meant he was too injured to give his name. Arthur couldn't bear thinking about it. It brought back memories of Merlin lying, deathly pale, in the physician's chambers with sweat pouring from his brow and pain wracking his body…

Blinking, Arthur forced the horrible image from his head and brought himself back to the present.

Ellie was on her phone again, brushing her hair from her face as she listened to the caller on the other end. She was speaking in an animated tone, nodding and smiling and oohing and aahing. Arthur pondered what on earth could be being said. He now vaguely understood mobile phones having had Ellie explain the basics to him. She had informed him that he didn't need to know the exact details just that you could speak to far away people easily.

Ellie didn't really seem to like explaining anything to him. She preferred to let him work it out on his own. Or maybe she just thought everything was out of his league.

Arthur was dressed in some of his newly bought clothes. Ellie had made him shed his boots immediately and then, much to his protest, she promptly chucked them in the nearest wheelie bin. Now, he was in a pair of weirdly light weight plimsoll like trainers. He was also wearing his new coat and a stripy blue, grey and green jumper. Having been cold before, he was rather toasty now.

"Right, okay, I promise I'll be there. Love you. Bye!" Ellie ended the call and turned to the blond man. "Okey, dokey, Arthur, we're off to Tesco."

"We are?"

"Yup. Need to get some stuff for lunch and supper. We have _nothing _in the fridge."

"Who was that on the phone?"

"Oh, just my friend, asking me to a party."

"A party?"

"Yeah, well not a party exactly…well, anyhoo, it doesn't matter, are you not starving? I am."

Arthur nodded. "Famished."

"Well then, let's get some grub and then we'll do some more Merlin hunting."

"You make it sound more fun than it is," Arthur chuckled, shaking his head.

**Review! **


	15. On Set

**YOU MUST READ THIS BIT: In the last chapter I mentioned that Pippa would begin filming in two days but I have now changed that to tomorrow because otherwise it would take too long for Merlin and Arthur to get together (and I know how you all so want that). I know it's improbable that a person would get an audition the day before filming starts but let's just call it poetic licence.**

**Thanks to: laurajslr, KnightGuardian, MagicByMerlin, MegElemental, debookworm01, Becca1938, Dawnmist 11, Isis the Sphinx, Basia Orci, Nikki Diamond and writing-at-random.**

**Seen the trailers! So awesome. The bit that got me so excited for some reason was when that guy points at Merlin and goes 'The boy, Merlin'. I always enjoy Merlin angst. :)**

**Only a week to go! Soooooo excited!**

**Also, if you're interested, read a really cute article on the tinternet about how Bradley James calls his and Colin's relationship a 'bromance'. Adorable. :) copy this - /entertainment/tv-film/tv-news/2009/09/12/merlin-favourite-bradley-james-reveals-unlikely-bromance-with-on-screen-rival-86908-21667605/  
**

**Hope that's okay!**

Nick had explained what his idea had been last night, when Pippa had gone to bed. He and Merlin had sat around the kitchen table, nursing mugs of hot chocolate, whilst he had told the warlock about how he'd visited all the pawnbrokers and jewellery shops in the area to see if the crystal had been brought in. Unfortunately, that had not turned up the _actual _object but the search had not been entirely fruitless. In one shop that Nick went into, the jeweller had told him that a man had been in with a crystal fitting the description and he had informed the man that it was, in fact, worthless. It looked nice but was worth a pittance. After that, the fellow had left the premises.

Where the crystal had gone then was a mystery. Although, the crystal was worth a lot to Merlin, now the criminal knew it was worth nothing to him then he would probably discard it. Therefore Merlin would never find it and would be stranded here for the rest of his life. Not a happy thought.

But there wasn't much he could do about it. With no spell books at his disposal, he couldn't even research another enchantment that would transport him back to Camelot.

* * *

That was why he was here, with Pippa, on the set of _Arthur _for the first day of filming. Surprisingly, for January, the sun was shining in the blue sky and the temperature was actually warm. It was a pleasant change from the previously harsh chills.

A familiar looking village spilled out before them, filled with a mixture of little stone and wooden huts. Animal pens enclosed a variety of hairy creatures, ranging from potbellied pigs to knobbly headed goats. Several chickens clucked and pecked their way around the place. A mill could be picked out among the buildings and the giveaway furnaces of a blacksmith smouldered away.

It was like being home and Merlin was astounded. He had to do a double take to make sure he hadn't stepped through another time portal and arrived back home. Unfortunately, no such luck.

He looked to his left and saw Pippa standing there with her blonde hair rippling behind her in the slight breeze. She turned to him, with rosy cheeks, and smiled. "Doesn't it look great?"

"If this is Camelot then where's the castle?" Merlin inquired, curiously.

"Oh, we don't have an actual castle, only sets. We'll film them later on. At the moment we'll film the village scenes."

"Right."

"Well, I better get my costume on and tell Andy I'm here. You wait here and I'll introduce you to some of the cast." With that, Pippa left.

"Right," Merlin nodded, his gaze once again transfixed on the fake village. A young man, dressed in period clothes, had just run out of the house in front of him, he had wide eyes and a worried frown on his face. When he caught sight of Merlin, he hurried over.

"Do you know anything about horses?" he asked, desperately. "I'm supposed to be holding a couple for the first scene but they're kicking up a fuss and I can't calm them down."

"Er…"

"Please…"

"All right."

* * *

And that's how Merlin found himself in control of two horses. When he first found them they were skittish – nostrils flared - and he guessed they had been spooked by the traffic which was passing on a nearby road. In the traditional way, of stroking their muzzles and whispering to them, he had quietened them once again into docile animals. Now, they stood with their heads down, plucking at the grass beneath their feet.

Merlin was quite proud of himself. Here was something in this foreign land that he _could _handle. He'd been around horses all his life – they were familiar friends.

The boy, who Merlin had discovered was called Jacob, had thanked him immensely and then hurried off to find the real animal handler, leaving the warlock alone with the two beasts. One chestnut in colour, its coat much brighter and glossier than Merlin had ever seen in his own time, and the other a colour that he had never even seen before: a pale, creamy colour with a white mane of hair. The horses in Camelot tended to be bay, chestnut or black. Only a couple were white in colour.

Although the peasant boy had never owned his own horse, he always borrowed the same one from the castle stables. A passive bay who went by the name Scout. From what Merlin had deduced, the animal used to belong to Arthur when he was a boy but then he had moved on to speedier creatures. Not that Scout wasn't fast; he had managed to get Merlin to the Isle of the Blessed quick enough, hadn't he? He was just not a war animal. Merlin didn't really blame him.

Gently, he rubbed the palomino's nose and it snorted amicably.

"Oi, you!"

Merlin jumped, spinning round to come face to face with a young man clad in a dark red tunic and black trousers. He was wearing a kind of chain mail waistcoat over his shoulders which, to Merlin, looked rather pointless considering the vital organs weren't covered. It must be some kind of modern style. Stupid, in his experience opinion. At his hip, a scabbard hung but it was empty of its sword. Even less well prepared.

"Are you addressing me?" Merlin asked in his usual, fake polite tone.

"Who else, you tosser? Now, is that my horse?"

"Well, I don't know, shouldn't you know your own horse, sir?" Merlin wasn't sure why he was adding sir on the end but it seemed to add an extra mocking to the sentence.

This caused the man to stop short. Then he frowned and snapped. "No. Why should I? Shouldn't you know which is King Arthur's horse?"

"King?" Merlin spluttered. "You're King Arthur?"

"Obviously not, you idiot." Somehow, idiot coming from this stranger was much more vicious than the real Arthur had ever said. "I'm an actor. I _play _Arthur. Give me the orange one."

"Orange? Do you mean chestnut?"

"Whatever."

"So your name is?"

"Shane, obviously, I'm the star of the programme."

"Obviously," Merlin agreed, raising his eyebrows.

As he had been speaking, Merlin had been inspecting the man in front of him who was to play his master. He wasn't very tall. Arthur wouldn't be pleased about that. He was quite skinny, the trousers on his legs seemed to be too fitted - they came in at the ankles. Arthur wouldn't be pleased about that either, he was proud of his muscles. He had a very baby face, soft and rounded, nothing like the sharp cut jaw line of the real man himself. And, although they had the colour of his hair correct: blond, it was dyed too light so it looked fake and had highlights in. It was straightened and fell onto his face in a side fringe.

Arthur wouldn't be happy at all.

"So," Merlin paused, "Do you want a hand up onto the horse?"

"Don't be stupid." Another Arthur-esque insult, but somehow so much more hurtful. "I can get up."

The boy brushed his hair from his face and then went to clamber onto the horse. Immediately, Merlin could tell he had no idea what he was doing considering he wasn't even using the stirrup to get on. However, he wasn't about to interfere now, not after he'd been insulted. Besides, it was much more amusing to watch.

Unused to the strange method of mounting, the poor chestnut horse snorted and stamped uneasily. Merlin could see that Shane was kneeing the animal in the side as he attempted to pull himself over its back. He should probably stop him now, before he caused the horse a serious injury. But before he could even step in, Shane gave an almighty lurch upwards and then, because he had so much momentum and couldn't stop, propelled himself straight over the back of the beast and onto the floor. Merlin winced, that had to hurt.

Fortunately though, the landing was on relatively soft grass.

Merlin hurried over to help the fallen man, still holding the halters of the horses as he went.

"Are you all right?" he asked, "I'm guessing you've never ridden a horse before?"

Shane didn't reply, instead, he climbed to his feet, gave Merlin a smouldering glare and marched off, spitting grass and mud from his mouth as he went. Merlin couldn't resist chuckling quietly to himself.

* * *

It was a little while before Merlin met up with Pippa again, by which point he had managed to rid himself of the two horses upon the same hapless chap as before. The boy had failed to find the animal handler but realised that he shouldn't have deserted the horses with a stranger and therefore returned.

He found her on the phone, groaning and nodding with an irritated expression on her pretty face.

"Yes, Mother," she snapped, "I know Mother…..yes…..I understand that but can't we…I know it means a lot to you but…you can't always expect….but…..you know you can't really order me around….no, Nick's not working…..I bet he'll be pleased…."

She caught sight of Merlin and a light seemed to return to her frustrated eyes as she smiled at him. She mouthed 'my mum' to him and made a face. He grinned back.

"Okay, well, yes, we'll be there….yes, just like every year….oh, wait, can I bring a guest?....yes, I know, but she always comes….I'm bringing him…..the house is flippin' big enough, Mother….sorry….okay….love you….bye."

She flipped her phone shut.

"Cor, my mum can be _so _annoying it's unbelievable. She's holding this function at our house which was meant to be next week but she's changed so its tomorrow. Wanted to have it whilst the weather's good or something, but she's only just told me. Well, actually, she said she left a message with a Martin or someone but that's stupid. She's stupid. Ergh."

Merlin flushed slightly but said nothing.

"Anyway, I asked if you could come, do you want to?"

"Sure, definitely."

"Great, I always have to bring some of my mates otherwise I have to talk to all Mother's old fogies and its so boring. It's usually a laugh. Although you do have to dress up or you're not allowed in. Do you have anything to wear?"

"Um…."  
Pippa continued, she didn't really seem to be waiting for answers. "Its okay, I'm sure Nick can set you up with something. I need to get on set now. Do you like my dress, by the way?"

Now she had paused, Merlin had a moment to get his bearings and he looked at the dress properly. It was lilac and embroidered with snowy white flowers. The bodice was tight fitting and showed off Pippa's waist (which did not look fat at all) whilst the rest of the dress flowed out in a long skirt below. The sleeves were long and the shoulders puffy. Pippa did look like royalty and the Gwen in Merlin's own time wanted to bag the real Arthur (not that she would) then that's what she needed to dress like.

"It's lovely," Merlin replied.

"Thanks. Come on, you can watch my first scene." She grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

* * *

The chestnut horse pounded through the village, kicking up dust and grass as it churned the ground with sharp hooves. Several ducks quacked noisily, flapping their wings as they waddled to get out of the way of the speeding missile. Eyes wide with excitement, the horse stretched itself further, as it had to leap over several obstacles. It did each with ease, landing with a grace and style that very few animals could parallel.

The rider on its back was up in his stirrups, back arched and legs braced ready to take any jolt or bounce thrown at him. He looked brilliantly poised. A true hero rushing to the rescue.

After clearing the last jump – a fallen wagon – the horse skidded to a halt at the command of its rider and the man swung his legs over its back and vaulted off.

"Okay, cut! That was brilliant, Craig. Can we bring Shane on now for the rest of the scene?"

There was a little bit of a scuffle and then the 'infamous' Shane appeared and took his place in exactly the same position stuntman-Craig had been in when he landed. He was dressed exactly the same as the man before.

"Right, Pippa, can you be ready to run from that house there, okay?"

"Yes, Gareth."

"Good, now, action!"

Shane made himself look like he'd just leapt from the horse's back and then patted the animal quickly on the side. It shifted away from his touch. Pippa then sprinted out from the hut, hitching up her skirt as she ran. "Oh, Arthur, thank god you're here. The bandits, they pillaged the village. There is nothing left. My father, he is dead!"

Merlin's heart tightened in his chest.

"My dear, Guinevere, do not fear, I am here."

"But, Arthur, it is too late. Everyone is either dead or has fled the village."

"Then we shall….we shall…..oh, damn, sorry, I've forgotten my line." Shane sighed and turned away from Pippa as if it was her fault.

In Merlin's honest opinion, Shane's performance was unconvincing and terrible. He emphasised the wrong words and his actions were way too elaborate. There was no way Arthur would ever act like he was. In fact, it was disrespecting the true prince.

"Okay, got it."

"From 'my dear, Guinevere'. Action!"

"My dear, Guinevere, do not fear, I am here."

"But, Arthur, it is too late. Everyone is either dead or has fled the village."

"Then I shall gather the knights and then find these bandits and kill them. Then we shall have avenged the people of this poor, devastated settlement."

Pippa stared lovingly up into Shane's eyes and Merlin felt a stab of jealously in his stomach. "May I come?"

"Oh no, dear Guinevere, 'tis far too dangerous for the likes of a woman. You shall remain home and care for our babe."

"Be careful then."

And then they kissed.

Merlin would've been angry but he was distracted by the fact that they seemed to have a baby. He could never imagine his Gwen and Arthur ever having a baby. Ergh, that would mean having to imagine them doing…you know what. He closed his eyes, disgusted.

"Cut. That was good guys. Why don't you get some lunch?"

As soon as they had been dismissed, Pippa hurried over to where he was standing, at the edge of the main path through the village. She had a huge grin on her face.

"So," she asked, "What did you think?"

"I think that Shane is a terrible actor," Merlin answered, honestly.

Pippa looked surprised for a moment and then laughed. "That's what I thought, but he looks good and that's all that seems to matter."

"And, also, since when did King Arthur and Gwen have a baby?"

"Well," Pippa smiled, sheepishly, "In the legend, they didn't actually have a baby but our writers put it in because they thought it would spice things up a bit, you know. Babies always seem to add extra drama."

"Right."

Merlin nodded, thinking that if they added any more drama to the real Arthur's life then they really would be in trouble. Thank god the Arthur and Gwen relationship would never really happen.

**Aha....sorry, I know its cheesy! Review! 1 week, whoop!**


	16. Getting Closer

**Author's Note - Thanks for the reviews: Lyra V. Ellison, Basia Orci, laurajslr, MegElemental, debookworm01, Isis the Sphinx, Becca1938 and writing-at-random.**

**I really hope you like this chapter. I stole a quote from Russell Howard (British comedian). You'll see. **

**Sorry to those who wanted a clash between actor Merlin and our Merlin, I haven't done it. I may do it in the future but probably not. Sorry.**

**Please read and review!**

Arthur was sitting in the back of the red _Seat Ibiza_ with a foul expression on his usually handsome face. His arms were crossed in an angry way across his chest and his whole demeanour emanated annoyance. There were several reasons why he was not happy at all. Firstly, he had been forced to come on this stupid day trip when he should be out looking for his manservant. Secondly, he had to wear this stupid suit that Ellie claimed he had to put on for the trip and it was highly uncomfortable (restrictive in all the wrong places). Thirdly, he was cramped in the back of this godforsaken car with no room to stretch his legs. And finally, and probably most importantly, because Ellie did not have a car and would not pay two fares for the train, she had roped in her 'friend', the infamous George, to drive them.

Upon meeting the man, Arthur had immediately formed an opinion of him: too slick and smooth to really be real. It was all an act, in the prince's opinion and Arthur didn't like actors.

What really got his goat though, was the fact that Ellie seemed infatuated by him. She became all giggly when he arrived, not her usual no-nonsense, dry humoured self. She was always staring at him in a kind of longing way and had insisted that they both sit in the front of the car – even though Arthur had to longest legs! To be honest, Arthur didn't see what she saw in him. He was good looking, yes, and his jokes were relatively funny but still!

She was at it now, laughing hysterically at some gag he'd told her about an old lady stuck in a pothole. It was ridiculous.

Arthur continued to sulk in the back of the car for the rest of the journey.

* * *

Dressed in a borrowed, too big shirt and trousers, with a broad dinner jacket resting on his bony shoulders, Merlin felt like a fool. Still, this is what Pippa had told him he had to wear. Apparently, it was Nick's old one and yet it was still too big for the young man. He supposed he was used to clothes being overly large for his thin frame though, he tended to have to hold up baggy trousers with a crude belt and his tunics always hung off him. Perhaps, he should accompany Arthur to some of his fitness sessions in order to bulk up. Or maybe there was a spell he could use; he would have to look that up when…if he got home.

They had been picked up from the foot of the apartment building by an extravagant looking vehicle which was black with silver trimmings and very, very shiny. Nick informed him that it was a Rolls Royce and was one of his father's many automobiles. Merlin didn't really know what the name meant so he was rather nonplussed, even though he climbed in to sit on comfortable leather seats.

The majority of the journey was spent in silence, Pippa was looking sleepy because she'd been out last night with her friends at a series of nightclubs and Nick had just finished his shift at the hospital at five this morning. Therefore, they weren't really inclined to talk to Merlin.

He had to entertain himself by watching the world go by through the car window. Initially, all he saw were buildings, lots of buildings and plenty of cars in jams. After awhile, the messy grey buildings transformed into beautiful rolling countryside with trees smattered around the place. They journeyed on, passing small hamlets and chocolate box villages with quaint little stone churches and Post Offices. Several times they had to stop in order to allow cars past on the narrow roads and several times they had to slow because there was a horse and rider clip-clopping along ahead of them.

Merlin was beginning to feel a bit sick what with all these bumpy, winding rounds. He clutched his stomach and willed himself not to vomit over the leather interior. He hoped they would arrive soon.

It seemed his wish had been granted for, as they turned the next corner, Nick looked out of the window and sighed. "There it is then: Wheatfield Manor. Our family home. Hasn't changed much, has it, Pip?"

Pippa too looked out of the window and shook her head. "It is pretty though, you have to admit." She turned towards her brother with a resigned expression.

Although Merlin had so far had his eyes closed in order to rid himself of the travel sickness, he opened them now, in order to see what the siblings were talking about. Bracing himself, he gazed out of the window and gaped when he saw the house they were driving up to. The driveway was long and straight, with flat, neatly mown lawns on either side. The grass was so green it didn't look real. Three raised levels, lined with plants and bushes of all exotic kinds created steps up to the house. Or, what Merlin should really say, up to the manor. It looked like it was standing a plinth, raised above the woodland around it.

The building itself was just as magnificent and well kept as the garden; it was huge, Merlin counted fifteen windows across and four up. Massive. It was made of an old grey stone, interspersed with statues and carvings. The roof was lined with battlements and the four corners of the roof were studded with eerily beautiful dragons carved skilfully from stone. That was just what Merlin could see from a distance.

Closer up, he could make out even more details in the masonry. It was a wonderfully crafted building; even an amateur like Merlin could see that. In the middle of the driveway at the top – where it widened into a circle – was a water fountain complete with a series of fish spurting liquid from their mouths.

With the back drop of a dazzling blue sky, the view was awe-inspiring. It even put Camelot Castle to shame.

"_You_ live here? Merlin asked in amazement.

"Well, we _used_ to live here. Mother wanted us to stay permanently but Nick got a job in the city and didn't want to commute and to be honest, I left because I wanted a bit of freedom. We've managed to pay our own way so far, haven't we, Nick? And we're proud of it."

"Is your father the King?"

Pippa laughed, obviously surprised. "No, of course not. I think we have inherited the house through the generations, it's always been a place of Collingridges. Our great, great, great grandfather was probably some kind of Duke." The girl shrugged. "Who knows."

The Rolls Royce pulled up gracefully in front of the stately home and the driver exited the front in order to open the door for them to leave. Merlin thought this rather pretentious but then again, he'd lived with someone who couldn't even dress themselves without needing help. Not naming any names. Pippa stepped elegantly out, dressed in a dark blue satin dress and Nick followed, looking rather fetching in his tailored suit. Merlin just tumbled out, almost tripping onto the gravel as he did so and grabbing onto the driver's arm to support himself. The man didn't look best pleased.

Slowly, the three of them made their way up the steps and up to the front door which was huge and made of a thick, dark oak. Nick rapped on the knocker which was shaped as a dragon's head. It seemed to be a theme, Merlin noted. A moment later, the door was opened by a smart looking man who beckoned them genially inside.

"Is he your father?" Merlin whispered to Pippa as they walked into the magnificent, tiled entrance hall.

She spluttered. "Don't be stupid. That's, Nelson, the butler."

"Right." Merlin flushed and smiled sheepishly at the silver-haired man in question. He seemed not to have heard or at least acted like he hadn't. Merlin recognised that as a trait of servants, to hear everything but reveal nothing.

The sound of music reached their ears and as Nelson led them through the archaic house, the noise grew louder. Merlin was astounded by the grandeur inside the building. Gold gilt, framed paintings lined the walls and suits of armour stood around the place like soldiers guarding the hallways. Lavish furniture could be seen in every room that the trio passed through made of mahogany and oak, rich woods that would only be found in an aristocratic household. Waist high vases stood proudly on plinths, along with the busts of past inhabitants.

Merlin was enraptured by the wealth of the entire place and barely noticed as they were led to the back of the house and out in more sprawling gardens. Here, guests were milling around, chatting to one another and drinking champagne. The sun was shining and it truly was a glorious setting.

Soon, he located the source of the music, it was a fairly large orchestra, sitting under a marquee and playing away. They were very good.

A sudden, sharp dig in his ribs brought him out of his observations with a painful jolt. Before he could react though, Pippa hissed. "Watch yourself, Merlin, here comes our esteemed mother."

"Should I bow?" he asked, quickly, worried at his reception.

"Don't you dare! God, she wouldn't shut up for weeks. It would be a nightmare."

"I was just asking." Merlin held up his hands in mock surrender.

He watched as an austere looking lady made her way towards them, dressed in a flowing cream dress and with her hair in a perm, she looked to have stepped straight out of a Jane Austen novel (not that Merlin knew who that was). You could tell she was old and yet she barely looked it; she had a timeless, almost immortal look about her. Merlin was just a teensy bit scared.

"Oh, Philipa, darling, you made it. Come kiss your dear mother." The woman opened her arms and a charming smile spread across her full lips. Pippa reluctantly pecked her once on each of her powdery cheeks. "And Nicholas, you too." The action was repeated.

"Pleased to see you, Mother," he stated. In Merlin's opinion, he didn't sound that pleased.

"Oh, you're such a good boy. Anyway, darlings, this must be your guest. Pleasure to meet you, I'm Jemima." She held out her hand.

Immediately, Merlin leant forward and kissed it, assuming that was what he was meant to do. Looking up though, he saw Pippa looked horrified, Nick amused and Jemima looked taken aback but not appalled. That had to be a good thing.

She giggled lightly. "I meant for you to shake it but what a gentleman," she smiled. "Where on earth did you find this one, Philipa?"

"Er…"

"Never mind and your name is?"

"Merlin, my lady," Merlin nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Being called a gentleman was not something he heard often, in fact, not ever. He was a peasant boy, a serving boy, not a _gentleman_.

"Nice to meet you. I will converse with you later, if you don't mind, some more visitors have arrived. I cannot be impolite, can I?" With that, Jemima wandered off.

"Gosh, she really is on the charm offensive today. She doesn't usually act like that," Nick commented, drily. Merlin thought he knew what he meant, considering he'd answered that dreadful phone call the other day. "Right-ho, I need some alcohol. You want anything, guys?"

"Please," Pippa nodded. "Oh, I can see Alexandra Greenwood over there. I must talk to her about her new baby. You don't mind if I leave you, Merlin, do you? You can chat, explore, whatever."

"Er….no." It didn't seem like he had much choice in the matter for the warlock was left standing alone in the middle of the terrace. He scratched his head.

* * *

According to George they were nearly there. Not that Arthur believed anything that George said. Still, he wouldn't mind if they arrived soon, he really needed to use the loo. Why on earth, in this day and age, did they not have chamber pots installed in cars?

He felt like they had journeyed for hours. There had been one stop for lunch but other than that he'd been crumpled into the backseat with his legs going numb and time to allow the green monster in the pit of his stomach to raise its ugly head. Never before had he felt like this, actually, having said that, he remembered a similar instance the first time he had seen Merlin with Lancelot. His faithful manservant had seemed quite taken with the newcomer and Arthur hadn't liked that. However, that was a bit different to this. He didn't harbour amorous feelings towards Merlin.

Looking out of the window, the young man sighed as he caught sight of the woodland they were passing through. The trunks of the trees whipped past but Arthur still had to indentify lots of them. He loved the forest. It was his friend. When he was younger it had been his playmate. Having very few young people in the castle, Arthur had sought adventures in the deep forest, entertaining himself with everything nature had to offer. He recalled the first time he had tracked an animal and another time having climbed a tree in order to spy on a kitchen maid and a stable boy who were taking refuge in the shadows.

Even as an older man, he loved to explore the forest and hunt its many wild animals. It was such a peaceful and beautiful place.

Honestly, he would've liked to jump out of the speeding car right now and vanish into the wood. He would build himself a shelter and reside the rest of the night there, drinking in the atmosphere. Even without a sword or a crossbow, he could set traps and catch rabbits for his meals. Unfortunately, none of this dreaming would be possible.

"Ah, Arthur," Ellie turned round and slapped his knee, waking him from his daydreaming, "We're here. Look lively."

Arthur nodded and yawned widely. He was startled when Ellie suddenly poked a finger in his open mouth a grinned. "Yawn rape!" She withdrew quickly, laughing.

"I'm sorry, _what_?" He raised an eyebrow and looked questioningly at her. She shrugged and turned back to face the front. That girl was strange. She reminded him of Merlin.

They rolled to a stop not long after the 'yawn rape' incident and Arthur clambered gratefully from the confines of the car. He stretched greedily as he stepped onto rough gravel. Surveying the scene around him, he took in the garden that stretched in front of him and the massive house that towered over him. He blinked in surprise. This wasn't what he expected when Ellie said they were going to a party.

Once again, he felt a familiar hand on his arm, dragging him inside. They were met by a servant of some kind and led through the cascading hallway and out into the garden at the back. It was just as long as the one at the front with what seemed to be a tennis court and a lake near the bottom. There were a lot of people at this party, the men dressed in suits similar to Arthur's and the ladies in a variety of coloured dresses. The young prince picked out a particularly pretty one who was looking rather stunning in a shimmering, dark blue number. He smiled; perhaps this party wouldn't be so bad after all.

Ellie was whispering something in George's ear and then he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Arthur wanted to know.

"Oh, it's just the same every year, all these posh people nattering about posh things. You should hear them, Arthur, complaining about their moats being dirty or their butlers not cleaning the antique statues properly. It's hilarious." The girl smirked. "But then again, perhaps it wouldn't be that different from what you're used to."

"_We _don't have a moat," Arthur retorted smartly.

"Yeah, but you do have a flippin' great castle. Anyway, I want to introduce you to my best friend since we were toddlers."

Ellie grabbed him, yet again, and guided him through the throng of people. Arthur was pleased to see she had left George behind to entertain himself. He was equally as pleased to see they were heading straight for the beautiful woman he had noted earlier.

"Pip! Hey!" Ellie tottered up to her in her high heels and hugged her tightly.

"Aw, Ellie, so glad you made it," the girl beamed and then released her. Arthur was surprised how much her accent differed from Ellie's; it reminded him of his own manner of speaking. "I've missed you."

"Me too and I have so much to tell you but first, let me introduce someone to you. Pippa, this is Arthur. Arthur P-Pendaggon. And Arthur, this is Pippa Collingridge."

The woman turned her attention to the prince, smiling widely and showing off rows of brilliant white teeth. Arthur was at once surprised by the darkness of her eyes, they were the colour of rich mahogany.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur," she held out her hand.

Arthur shook it. "Likewise."

**Aha! Is the suspense killing you yet?**


	17. The Library

**Aha, to laurajslr, I'm glad things didn't go the way you expected. That was my plan all along. I didn't want it to be obvious. :)**

**Author's Note - Thanks to laurajslr, debookworm01, KG, ToiletFacility, Scribe of Aurora, eszi, writing-at-random, FireSenshi2, Lyra V. Ellison, Basia Orci, Isis the Sphinx, Becca1938, Nikki Diamond and static-as-you-walk-away. Thanks for the reviews! They do make me want to write the next chapter. **

**Just so you know, don't hate Pippa too much in this chapter. Or Arthur for that matter (not that you ever could).  
**

Pippa and Ellie had been exchanging fond and rather amusing memories of each other with Arthur. He seemed to be enjoying himself and the company of the two girls.

"So," Pippa suddenly looked directly at him, "What about your childhood, Arthur? Any skeletons in the broom cupboard or whatnot?"

"Er…" Arthur wracked his brains, aware that if he revealed too much then he would seem like a madman and if he revealed nothing then it would be viewed as impolite. "I'm an only child so I don't have any stories like you two have. I didn't really have a lot of chance to make friends. I certainly didn't have a best friend."

Pippa looked sympathetic. "Aw…you poor thing." She smiled kindly. "At least you didn't have this one," she nudged Ellie, "Getting you into trouble every living minute. I swear, the amount of times I was forbidden to go out because of you is into the millions."

The young physician grinned. "Well, life is way to short to spend it knitting and painting pretty flowers like your mum wanted you to. You wouldn't be who you are now without me dragging you into that lake so we both caught pneumonia or persuading you it would be a good idea to join the circus as a knife-throwing double act."

"Sure, I wouldn't have the scars either," Pippa laughed.

* * *

Evening was falling on the 'function', as Jemima so fondly liked to call it, and the moon was peeping out from behind a cloud. Everything in the garden of the manor was being coated in a shadowy blanket, like icing sugar sprinkled on a cake. Soon, the only sources of light were to be the flickering torches that lined the patio, casting a warm glow on all those still chatting to one another. Although it was not late, barely past six, the night did close in quickly but that was the nature of the winter months.

Ellie had bumped into several people she knew from previous encounters at the Collingridge family home and she had even had a rather long catch up with the hostess of the party herself. Sometimes, Ellie just wished that Pippa's mum would shut up. She could talk for England. Unfortunately, she had yet to see Mr. Collingridge who she regarded with great respect and admiration. He was a kind and generous man who was always up for a laugh despite having the appearance of someone who always looked as if they would rather be somewhere else. His impressions of his wife were uncanny and completely and utterly hysterical.

She had spotted George, slow dancing with a young lady who she guessed to be one of the many cousins related to Pippa. They looked nice together, content, and Ellie was glad that her best friend was enjoying himself. Having coerced him into driving them here, the girl thought he deserved to have a good time.

Earlier on, she had lost Arthur and Pippa in the crowd of people and wondered where they had vanished to. She couldn't see them anywhere. That was strange. Feeling a strange sense of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, Ellie left the loud group of guests in the middle of the patio and made her way to the quieter region of the garden. There was a sudden chill in the air and she wished she hadn't left her cardigan inside. Wrapping her arms tightly round her, Ellie descended a few steps to the lower level of the garden.

After taking a few steps, she suddenly heard low, hushed voices. And then a quiet giggle. Frowning, the young woman walked up to a stone statue of a dragon. The sound seemed to be coming from the other side. Curiously, she peered through a gap under the legs of the beast and almost gasped at what she saw.

Standing, against a similar stone statue to her own, were two figures. They were kissing furiously; lips passionately locked. She had her hand in his hair and he had his on her neck. Arthur and Pippa.

She couldn't believe it.

Barely choking back a sob, Ellie ran from the scene, tumbling over in her haste to climb the steps and scraping her shin painfully. Picking herself up, Ellie didn't have time to check her injuries because she could hear footsteps; they had heard her or seen her or both. They couldn't see her in this state.

"Hello? Ellie, is that you?" Arthur's voice rang out in the dim light and Ellie's heart clenched. He knew! She flew up the last couple of steps and then began to hurry across the dance floor. Wondering whether she was being pursued, the girl spared a glance over her shoulder and, to her absolute horror, saw the tall figure of Arthur charging up the stairs. He was going to catch her.

Suddenly, she was struck by inspiration. Arthur didn't know the inside of the stately home like she did. She'd been here millions of times as a kid. If she could just get inside then she could lose him in one of the secret passages.

Pushing her way through a bunch of dancers, including Nick who gave her a look as if to say 'what's wrong with you', Ellie managed to make it to the French doors. Swiftly, she leapt through them and scurried through a large drawing room before diving into a door behind the large clock in the corner. There was no way Arthur could find her now. However, she would have to face him at some point and in order to do that she needed to clean herself up and brace herself mentally. There was only one place she could go when she needed that kind of solitude.

Setting forth, she climbed up a narrow spiral staircase.

* * *

Gently, she turned the golden, intricately carved doorknob and pushed the wooden frame open. As soon as she had opened the door a crack, the smell of books washed over her. It was such a wonderful old smell that she could never get enough of; a mixture of ink and paper and leather. And it wasn't just the smell that always got her as she entered her favourite room in the entire world. It was the spectacular view.

It was a circular room with a vaulted ceiling and bookshelves lining the walls all the way up. So many old tomes and volumes that hadn't been read in what looked like centuries. Ellie had always wanted to climb to the very top shelf and pull down the book that looked like it had been there the longest in order to read it. She'd never had the courage though, not to climb those rickety looking ladders. Whenever she had wanted to borrow a book from the wonderful library, she had had to ask Nick to clamber up and fetch her the novel she wanted.

Sometimes, when she used to have sleepovers with Pippa, she used to creep out in the middle of the night and come in here with a torch to read a book or two. Pippa never even knew. She was a heavy sleeper.

The thought of Pippa brought back the memory that was now burned into her mind like a brand, of her and Arthur kissing with their hands all over one another. It made her feel sick. Not that she should really be surprised, she thought bitterly. Ever since they had hit puberty, Pippa had had all the boyfriends and Ellie had always been a spare part. By the time she was sixteen, she had had one boyfriend whilst Pippa had had….at least seven. Ellie was always jealous of her friend's looks and charming personality but she couldn't hate her, not ever, she was like a sister. Even when Pippa had stolen her one and only boyfriend, Ellie had forgiven her.

But now it had happened again.

Well, okay, Arthur wasn't actually her boyfriend. He was a man from a legend who had ended up in need of her help. Just because she had looked out for him and therefore had begun to harbour feelings for him, didn't mean that he felt the same way. She was always like this with boys, hoping that they liked her, thinking that they liked her and then finding out that they just wanted her as a friend. It was depressing.

She couldn't believe that Pippa had spent one afternoon with Arthur and they were already together.

"Ehem." The small, tentative cough drove all thoughts from Ellie's head as she started from her trance and looked up. Standing, a little way away from her, with his hand rubbing the back of his head in an awkward manner, was a young man. He was tall and gangly, with a shock of jet-black hair and bright blue eyes. There was a red tinge to his otherwise pale cheeks.

"Oh, god, Jesus, crap….I'm sorry…you didn't need to see…this." The girl gabbled and gestured miserably to her sorry state with her streaky mascara, snotty nose and red eyes.

"It's all right." His voice was soft and his accent vaguely familiar. He was coming closer now, she noticed, with slow, deliberate steps, like he was approaching a horse that might bolt at any moment. "You're hurt."

Ellie was surprised. "I am?"

"Yes, you're bleeding."

He was almost right in front of her now. Unexpectedly, he was even taller close up and extremely skinny, his cheek bones stuck out prominently on his pixie-like face. "From your leg." He pointed.

Ellie looked to where he pointed and was slightly startled to see a spider web of bloody tendrils making its way down her leg. They were dark red and stark against her pale skin.

"Do you want me to-" he began, gesturing as if to help.

"No, its fine, I've got a tissue, I'll mop it up." As she said this, the girl suddenly realised that she didn't actually have her handbag on her and therefore had no tissues on her. She must have left it back down at the party.

The man smiled slightly and it was such a lovely smile that, almost instantly, Ellie felt better.

"You know what; I think I might have something that will do the trick." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he rummaged around for a moment before drawing out a red piece of cloth. "Here. You can use this. It won't even show the blood up."

"Thanks," Ellie took the proffered item and began dabbing at her wound. It wasn't very deep, just a graze. That was good. "What is this, anyway, a hankie?"

"Er….no," the fellow looked momentarily embarrassed, "It's a neckerchief."

* * *

Arthur couldn't find Ellie anywhere. He felt terrible. He knew that she'd seen him with Pippa and if her disappearance was anything to go by, she was upset. He hadn't meant for her to see. In fact, he hadn't meant for it to happen at all. It was just a combination of too much alcohol, a pretty, single girl and jealousy from Ellie's actions towards George that had made him do what he did. And he thoroughly regretted it.

This house was huge and because he was a stranger to it, the young prince had no idea where to even start looking for the girl. She could be anywhere. In any one of the hundred or so rooms. Sometimes, Arthur couldn't even find Merlin (to berate him) in his own castle, so how could he ever expect to find Ellie in this place? It was like finding a needle in a haystack.

* * *

Ellie had finished tending to her knee, it was hardly up to the hygiene standards for washing wounds at the hospital but she knew it would suffice. Besides, the graze was only superficial, it would practically clear up on its own. Unfortunately, she tended to be a heavy bleeder. Once, she had had a nose bleed for the majority of a day and eventually, her mother had taken her to the hospital to check out if she had something wrong with her. Luckily, or unluckily, whichever way you wanted to look at it, she just had thin blood. Therefore, she still needed to hold the neckerchief to her leg to stop the flow.

"Sorry about this," she flushed, "I'm sorry if I've ruined your neckerchief."

Her companion grinned, amusedly, and shook his head. "It's fine. I have plenty of others."

"Oh, that's good then." Ellie looked relieved and lifted the cloth to inspect her shin again. The young man peered over too.

"You know," he said, drawing back, "I don't really even know why I'm looking. I couldn't tell you if that was serious or not. I never really listened when my uncle told me about medicine; wounds or otherwise." He looked sheepish, as if even admitting that would get him into trouble.

Ellie was curious. "So your uncle is a doctor?"

"A physician," the dark-haired boy nodded.

"Cool, I'm a doctor too."

"Really?" He seemed momentarily surprised but then he schooled his expression into one of cheery amicableness.

"Well, I've almost graduated properly." Shrugging, Ellie looked around the room from her position on one of the comfortable sofas that sat by the wall. "So, what brings you here?"

"I'm not really sure."

Ellie was taken aback for a second and then she laughed. "You're not really sure? What? You just drifted up here for no reason whatsoever?"

"I guess."

"Ha, its fate, obviously, so you could be here to rescue me from my sorrow and offer me a shoulder to cry on."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I was meaning to ask, if you don't mind, why you are so upset? And what happened to your knee?"

The girl bit her lip. "It's complicated."

"I have time," he spread his arms. "I've not go anywhere else to go."

Ellie looked at the stranger, contemplating him. It was weird. She had only just met him; hadn't even asked his name and yet she felt herself trusting him implicitly. Somehow, she felt like she already knew him, that he was a long lost friend. It was probably because he had such a soft voice and honest eyes. They were eyes that could never lie. They hid secrets, undoubtedly, but could never lie.

Even though she didn't know his name, she felt no compulsion to ask. If they knew each other by name then perhaps this natural limbo would shift and the moment would be lost.

"There's this guy," she began, "I only met him recently; really recently. Initially, I thought he was a complete idiot, arrogant, full of himself and a tad crazy."

"Sounds like someone I know," the man laughed.

"But then, well, then I got to know him. I realised that he was a pretty nice guy; the kind of guy that you don't come across that often these days. Ironic really." She chuckled to herself. "Anyway, so I had these feelings and I thought there might be a chance he reciprocated them but I brought him here today and then...he got off with my best friend."

"Got off?"

"You know, made out?" Still a blank expression. "Groped? Kissed?"

"Oh, ouch. I'm sorry." He paused, noticing that, once again, tears were collecting in Ellie's eyes. She wiped them fiercely away. She _hated _crying. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Short of magic, not much."

Surprisingly, the man laughed, his sapphire eyes sparkling with humour. "Anything more on my level? A drink, perhaps, or some food? Maybe, as we're in a library, you'd like a book to read?"

Ellie looked up at her newfound acquaintance and gave him a watery smile. He seemed to have hit on something that could cheer her up immensely. How did he know what to say? It was like he had some kind of sixth sense.

"You know what, I'd love a book," she said, softly.

"Books always seem to banish all your problems," he agreed. "Now, I will fetch you any book in this entire place. Which one do you want?"

For a second, the girl pondered her decision and then came to the realisation that this was a dream come true. Perhaps, finally, she could get her wish.

"_Any_ of them?"

"Any single one. Whatever will cheer you up." He grinned that lovely grin again.

"Okay, if you're sure. Can I have the one at the very top? The biggest, dustiest and oldest one you can find."

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly and Ellie worried that she'd asked too much. However, that didn't seem the case as he nodded and craned his neck upwards, staring up at the highest shelf. He then turned to her and asked her not to watch him fetch it. "I'm a rubbish climber, you see, and I don't want to embarrass myself in front of a lady," he explained. Ellie smirked but complied.

With her back to him, she waited. In front of her was another bookshelf and she read the spines of the few that had titles; the majority were just blank and leatherbound. She was just reading the title of one of her favourite books: Wuthering Heights, when she heard whispered words behind her. Thinking that the boy was speaking to her, she spun round…

And froze.

Raven-haired head tilted backward and bony hand outstretched in the air, her newfound companion was still on solid ground and yet a large book was coming steadily towards him from up in the rafters. Ellie stared, astounded, as it gently made its descent, like a leaf swirling from a tree in the autumn. He was still muttering under his breath.

"Oh my god!" she yelped, unable to contain herself.

The boy jumped. His concentration seemed to have snapped as the book stopped floating and plummeted abruptly to the floor. Pages fluttered about the place. He whirled on the spot to face her. Ellie was even more shocked to see that his irises, rather than the startling blue they'd once been, were now a shimmering golden colour. And then they changed again.

"You! Your eyes….the book….how? What?!"

"It's not what you think!" He hurried towards her in a panic, stumbling over the fallen book as he did so.

"And what do I think?" Ellie retorted, half scared, half confrontational.

But the young man wasn't listening anymore. He was staring, dumbfounded, at the book at his feet.

"That's my spell book!" he exclaimed.

**Duh duh duuuuuh!**


	18. Merlin

**Author's Note: Thank you very much to everyone for reviewing. They were the best reviews yet. I was soooo happy reading them. They made me glad that I'm writing this story. Thats thanks to: tarabear, Potato (sorry, Merlin probably sounds too confident in this chapter too but I actually realised he can be quite forward when he needs to be), XxBlueSkiesxX, uneatenbonbon13, Vampishelf, Nikki Diamond (sorry if it was obvious but you don't know what's going to happen next, alls not as it seems), Ce, MegElemental, debookworm01, ToiletFacility, MySisterThinksI'mCrazy, sucker4nethinghp, ElvenArcher0310, Isis the Sphinx, Becca1938, Lyra V. Ellison (thanks for the lovely review), FireSenshi2, Basia Orci, MerlinWorld, laurajslr, Scribe of Aurora, writing-at-random, KnightGuardian, HopeCoppice and special thanks to MagicByMerlin (I love the format of both your reviews. Love it when peeps quote back to me :D)**

**Merlin was awesome. Loving Bradley's bare chest. Lol. Next episode looks better but I think that was just a warm up. The series as a whole looks immense. Soooo can't wait til next saturday. Can't believe I have school inbetween. Gay!**

Ellie looked from the book on the floor to the man standing over it with a disbelieving expression on his face and then back again. She wasn't really sure what to say, to be honest. There weren't many times she was stuck for words but this was one of them. A rare occasion but, she thought, completely justified. If someone performed magic in front of you and then claimed some old book was their spell book then what on earth were you meant to do? Instead, she waited for _him_ to something.

Suddenly, he bent down and gathered the book up in his arms, grabbing a few pages that had fallen loose. Ellie wasn't surprised they had wriggled free of the binding. That book looked ancient. A cloud of dust rose up into the air as he opened the leather cover and the girl coughed in reaction as the particles hit the back of her throat. His eyes widened, as he looked up at her, it was as if, in the presence of this book, he had forgotten she was there.

"I can explain…" he began.

"_Who _are you?" Ellie managed to choke. "In fact, _what _are you?"

The man looked offended. "I'm human," he stated, bluntly, "If that's what you mean."

"But….what was…?"

"_That_ was magic."

"Magic? You've got to be kidding."

Throwing his arms wide he asked, "Does it look like I'm kidding?"

"Well…no…." Ellie admitted, still confused and a little frightened over the whole matter. How on earth could someone perform magic? That was just for books and for legends. It was fictional. A fantasy but not reality. And yet, she could not deceive her eyes of what they'd seen. This stranger had summoned that book and it had come. He was not performing like on a stage or on the television; there was no wire attached to the volume. There was no way it could be a trick. But then, at the same time, there was no way it could be magic. Could it?

An awkward silence had fallen over the two of them. It was a complete contrast to how they'd been so at ease with each other just a moment ago.

And then the man spoke, scratching the back of his head. "You know, this is kind of the first time I've really _told _just anyone about my magic. It would make me feel a little bit better if you didn't just stand there in a stunned, mortified silence."

"Well, I'm sorry for being a just a tiny bit surprised," Ellie retorted, rather more sarcastically than she'd intended. When she saw the boy's face cloud over, she immediately felt bad. "No, sorry, that's harsh. It's just a lot to take in." She took a deep breath. "Can I get this straight? You are a wizard? Someone that can perform magic?"

He nodded. "A warlock."

"Right," Ellie said, weakly. "And now, can I just ask your name?"

"It's Merlin."

She had half been expecting it; in the back of her mind somewhere, something had clicked just a few minutes earlier. And yet she couldn't believe the coincidence.

"Bloody hell," she breathed, "You're him."

Merlin looked puzzled; this strange woman seemed to know him. "Who?"

"_Him_."

"I'm sorry but that's not really helping much."

"You are bloody him! Geez!" Merlin could've sworn her voice was getting higher and higher as she spoke. Soon only dogs would be able to hear it.

"Same words repeated in a different order is still not much of a clue," the warlock quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"And he friggin' told me you weren't a wizard but you are! Crap! Wait 'til he finds out."

Merlin suddenly felt a bad feeling rise in the pit of his stomach. There was something he was missing here and he knew it was very, very important. So important that he could've just sold his life down the drain.

"Until _who _finds out?" he questioned, guardedly.

"Arthur, of course, you know the Prince of Camelot and all that. He was the one I was talking about earlier, when I said-" Ellie stopped abruptly, her face turning the colour of beetroot.

"He's here? In this time?"

"Not only in this time, Merlin, but _here _at this very party."

To Ellie's astonishment, Merlin actually turned white; so white that he could've beaten _Daz _in a white-off. His eyes widened with horror and his mouth fell open in shock. The emotion that the young doctor related to all these reactions was fear. Why on earth would Merlin, Arthur's friend who he had been searching for all this time, be fearful of his master? It didn't make sense. That is until…

"You can't tell him! You mustn't tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"That I can do magic. He'd kill me."

"He wouldn't kill you," Ellie laughed, thinking that Merlin was just overreacting.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Merlin replied with such honesty that Ellie paused, "Promise me that you won't tell him." His eyes were begging her; pleading with her. She'd never come across such expressive eyes.

"I-I promise…" she agreed, "But I don't understand why?"

* * *

This house looked was even bigger on the inside than it had looked on the outside. That was what Arthur had concluded after a long period of searching for Ellie. However, it was just like she'd vanished into the thin air because he couldn't find her anywhere. He must have looked in a hundred bedrooms already, knocked on a dozen locked bathrooms to see if she was inside and generally made a nuisance of himself whilst on his quest to find her. One particularly memorable intrusion had been when he opened a door and found himself viewing a very large, very white bottom, midair. From the shriek he had heard as he pulled the door shut, eyes like saucers, he understood what he had walked in on. That image would be imprinted on his brain for a long time.

And yet, he still hadn't discovered her hiding place. Then again, he supposed she had the advantage of knowing this mansion better than he did, having spent a lot of her childhood playing here with Pippa. He could imagine the fun they would have had, running up and down these long corridors, hiding in the rich drapes which frame the windows and jumping out at unsuspecting, passing servants. Or concealing themselves in a secret room for hours, laughing and giggling together about….well, whatever girls laughed and giggled about.

There was an open window and Arthur could hear the music from in the garden floating whimsically up to him. He peered through the glass and saw that the majority of people had stopped dancing and were sitting down at small tables. Alone at one of the tables was Pippa, her hair was rippling in a light breeze and she looked chilly. She should put a coat on, he thought. It was as if his thinking that had caused something to happen because Nick appeared just at that moment and hung his suit jacket over her bare shoulders.

Seeing her there, without her friend, made Arthur feel even more terrible. They should have been enjoying their evening together. From what he had gathered, they didn't see each other that often and savoured all the time they had together. But he had ruined that. If Merlin was here then he would've told him that he was an 'ass' and a 'spoilt prat' for messing with two friends like he had. His manservant would've given him that 'I'm a good person and I disapprove of your actions' look. Arthur hated that look.

Sighing, the prince turned away from the window, and carried on his search. The next door he tried was a fine, dark oak; Arthur could see the craftsmanship that had gone into making such a beautiful thing. However, tacked on the wood, marring its attractive finish was a scruffy sign. It read: _Keep Out_.

Obviously, that didn't deter Arthur in the slightest.

Turning the knob, the young man pushed his way into the room. At first glance, he saw that it was massive. He would say it was more like two rooms in one because the part closest to him had a thick, rich blue carpet where a large bed sat and then further away, there was a step that led to a marginally lower level. This level was laid with varnished floorboards and the walls were painted with pictures of the countryside; very similar to the scenery Arthur had seen driving up to this manor. A horse reared on one wall, pure white and very lifelike with an armour clad knight on its back and on another wall there was a castle, scarlet flags flying with a boar's head insignia. Two dragons flew in the bright blue sky – one white, one red – they seemed to be fighting.

This stunningly painted scenery was ruined slightly by a strange white net that hung off one wall – hooplike in shape – and another, square shaped net that Arthur recognised as one similar to the type he'd seen at the park. It was a football goal.

Standing in front of the goal, repeatedly kicking a ball against the wall, was a boy. He looked to be around fourteen in Arthur's opinion but he couldn't be sure. Tall, with short blond hair and a muscular frame, he hadn't noticed an intruder was in his room. He seemed too intent on his kicking. Arthur thought it would be politest to announce his presence. Perhaps, he could ask this child if he had seen Ellie anywhere.

"Er…good evening," he stated, loudly.

The boy whipped round, the ball bouncing across to the other side of the room.

"Who the hell are you?" His voice was calm and yet held an edge of malice. Arthur was surprised by such a hostile reaction. "What are you doing in my room?"

"I'm Arthur; I'm a guest at the party." He scratched the back of his head. Maybe, this hadn't been such a bright idea.

By this time, the youth had covered the ground between them, close up, the prince realised he was almost the same height as him. "Okay, so you're a guest, that gives you permission to be in the house but what gives you the right to just _walk _into people's rooms?"

His tone was a so bullying and nasty, that Arthur really wanted to retaliate. He understood that, technically, the boy was correct, he was in the wrong. In fact, he'd probably be a little peeved if a random stranger came into his bedroom but there was something in the teen's demeanour and stance that irked the prince.

"I'm looking for someone, actually," Arthur replied, cagily.

"Oh really? Well, that truly is interesting." The way he said the words really suggested that it wasn't. "As you can see, they aren't in this room, I'm afraid. So, _perhaps_, you'd like to sod off."

That was too much. No one was that rude to royalty and got away with it. "Hmm…." Arthur mimed stroking his chin. "You know, _perhaps_, I wouldn't like to 'sod off'. Maybe, I'll just stay here. Seems quite nice."

The boy seemed shocked; that had knocked him off balance. Exactly what Arthur wanted. He walked past the youngster, brushing past him as if he didn't exist (admittedly, Arthur was well practised at such a move, having used it on Merlin far too many times). He smirked to himself as he took the step down into the second half of the room.

"I mean," he said, scooping the white football up casually with his foot so it landed easily in his hands. He hadn't expected it to be quite so effective. Emboldened by his achievement, he began to spin the ball on his finger. "These pictures are _so_ pretty, I could just stay and stare at them for hours. Did you paint them?"

The boy's grey eyes narrowed at this. "Piss off."

"Sorry?"

"I said piss off, you weirdo. Why won't you get out of my room?"

"These dragons…what do they symbolise?" Arthur asked, seeing that he was succeeding in winding the youth up. "And what castle is this? The boars….which kingdom do they originate from?"

"I don't frickin' know, do I? It's the legend of King Arthur. Dad was obsessed with it. He used to read me the legend as a kid, okay? This place, this house here, its built on the supposed ground that Camelot Castle once stood. Load of crap, if you ask me." It was like he'd opened a floodgate, the words just tumbled out.

But Arthur was too stunned to care that his prodding had broken the boy's hard exterior.

* * *

Merlin couldn't believe that Arthur was here. Arthur was _here_ in this time. In the _future_. He wasn't sure whether that made things better or worse. If he looked at things one way then it was good because it meant that Arthur couldn't be attacked by sorcerers whilst Merlin wasn't there to protect him and he wouldn't be wondering where Merlin had gone because he was here too. However, if he looked at things the other way then he'd brought Arthur to the future when he was supposed to rule Camelot – what if they couldn't get back? – and how was he meant to explain how the whole jump in time had come about? Surely, he'd have to be suspicious.

And, adding to that, he'd practically blown the whole thing by showing this complete stranger (who knew Arthur!) that he was a warlock. It was like he had a death wish.

Then again, he supposed that Arthur couldn't do much if he did find out in this time. He wasn't a prince here; he didn't have power over life and death. Still, if Merlin was being really honest, it wasn't his life that he feared losing, it was the relationship, the bond; he'd built up with Arthur. They were friends. He knew there was a chance that their friendship wouldn't be irrevocably destroyed, that's what he always hoped when he had dreams about revealing his true identity, but then there was a chance that it would be. It was his destiny to protect the future king and he couldn't reveal himself yet, not until Arthur _was _king. Whenever that was.

However, it looked like he may not have the option of revealing himself then.

"I-I promise," the voice was actually trembling, "But I don't understand why?'

It was like a great weight had been lifted off his chest. He could breathe again. This girl, whoever she was, had agreed not to tell his secret to Arthur. He couldn't believe his luck. Essentially, by agreeing to secrecy, this young woman had just saved his life.

"Because," he took a deep breath, "Well, I guess you know we're from the past?"

"Yes, yes…" Ellie waved at him to continue, "Get to the good bit!"

"Good?" Merlin cocked his head, like a confused puppy.

"Oh, geez, you know what I mean."

The young manservant took a deep breath. "In Camelot, King Uther banned magic. He hates it. Thinks it's the source of all evil. And, well, to cut a long story short. I have been able to use magic since birth and a dragon told me it's my destiny to help Arthur become king. I'm not evil, you must understand that. But I can't tell Arthur otherwise he'll kill me. That's the rule of the land. I can't change it."

Ellie looked puzzled but Merlin wasn't sure why. "But….surely, if you're friends, then he wouldn't kill you? Well, the Arthur I met wouldn't kill you."

**The nasty boy will be explained. I promise. Still no meeting. Next chapter. I promise!**


	19. Family Portrait

**Author's Note - With thanks to: KG, AThousandYearsOfPain, GhibliGirl91, laurajslr, MegElemental, Potato, debookworm01, Becca1938, Norwegian Blue, Isis the Sphinx, Lyra V. Ellison, Basia Orci, writing-at-random and XxBlueSkiesxX. Special thanks to Lyra V. Ellison for the super long review. Always a pleasure to get those!**

**Didn't you just love the last episode. I have to say, truthfully, at the start I though 'Whoa! Wait a minute, this is going way too fast. Slow down!' but then it did so that was okay. I suppose that's the problem with trying to fit so many things in. I'm falling more and more in love with Merlin/Colin as we go along. That episode was completely and utterly adorable. Favourite bit was when he saw Gwen and found out that Arthur was cooking and then went to investigate. Such cute facial expressions and voice. Colin Morgan is an awesome actor. We must vote for him on National TV Awards! **

**Still love Arthur/Bradley though. I love them both!**

**Hope you like the chapter. Sorry for the wait but its finally here! Drum rooooolllllll please....**

The guests of the party were slowly making their goodbyes and heading for home. Several large, expensive cars had pulled up in the driveway and taken away groups of people; chauffeuring them back to various mansions. Of the few that were left, none were dancing; a couple were swaying rhythmically to the music that the orchestra played as they chatted but that was the extent of the movement. Everyone else had collapsed, exhausted into chairs and were sipping their wines and beers.

Nick and Pippa were sitting next to one another. Nick had his hands clasped on the table in front of him and he was staring at them disinterestedly whilst his sister sat, quietly, listening to the sounds of the night. An owl hooted, eerily, in the distance and a dog barked. Pippa guessed it was one of the hounds in the kennels to the left of the house. Most likely Frasier. He had the loudest voice.

It seemed nothing was going to happen when Nick suddenly let out a huge breath, blowing out his cheeks, and sat back in his seat. He craned his neck to look at his sibling. She, too, turned, aware of his gaze.

"What?" she asked, rather exasperatedly. Her brown eyes were glazed with tears.

"You know what," Nick replied, candidly.

"I didn't mean it."

Running a hand through his messy locks, Nick said. "You _never _mean it, Pip, and yet, somehow, you always manage to hurt someone. And, unfortunately, that usually seems to be Ellie."

"I know," she groaned, "I didn't think….I didn't think they were, you know, like that. I mean, he never gave any indicators."

"To be honest, I don't think they were, as you put it 'like that' but relationships can be complicated," Nick stated, wisely. "You knew that she brought him as a guest."

"Yes, but she brought George too. I always thought _they _had a thing going on."

"It would seem not."  
"You think?" Pippa replied, somewhat waspishly. Her brother raised his eyebrows at her.

"_I think _that you should go and find her. Apologise. She's had a hard time of it over the past year. You know that better than anyone. You can't let her hurt like this."

Nick spoke of Ellie as if she was another sister, to be cared for and protected. In a sense, she was, although not by blood. The amount of time he had been around her; the amount of time he had known her was enough for him to treat her in such a way. He, as an older brother figure, had helped her deal with a lot. Not least with the incident that had occurred.

* * *

Pale, slender fingers, flicked lightly through the pages of the old book; alert, blue eyes searched the words for anything that would help. He would leap from 'time' to 'crystal' to 'travelling' and yet none of them offered exactly what he needed. Not one explained how you could reverse a time travelling jump. In fact, they didn't even suggest you could actually do it. Obviously, it was possible; the mere presence of the girl next to him demonstrated that.

She watched him with curious eyes as he scanned the worn, battered pages of his ancient spell book. It was strange to imagine that this book had been around for over a thousand years. She wouldn't have thought that possible: to go so long without discovery. Then again, she guessed that this library, in all its vastness, must hide plenty of deep, dark secrets. This house too. It wouldn't have been too hard for that book to be passed on from generation to generation. But how did it get here in the first place?

You could tell it was a relic, just by looking at it. The paper which made it up was yellow stained and torn in several places. In fact, you couldn't even call it paper; it was parchment- thicker. The cover was tatty and made of dark leather. It seemed to have been in the wars too because there was a large burn mark in one corner that had charred a number of pages and the binding seemed to have been slashed by a claw of some kind. She wondered whether Merlin knew where they were from or whether they were clues as to what was yet to come. Inside, the black ink was smudged in some places but for the most part intact – a very human scrawl. Ellie couldn't believe someone had written this tome all those years ago.

"Have you found anything?" she finally asked, when she felt she could not bear the silence and the waiting any longer.

The boy looked up, bright eyes piercing hers for a second in an intense moment of contact that took her surprise. He then shook his head, sadly. "No." Abruptly, he shut the book. His expression was unreadable.

"So then….er….what do we do now?" Ellie queried, tentatively.

"We go and find Arthur," Merlin decided.

He hadn't really been considering finding _nothing _in his trusted spellbook. Usually it helped at least a little bit. This time, however, the search seemed fruitless and he was just as stuck as he was before. Except, now, he had a young woman, who he barely knew, knowing that he could perform magic and who was an acquaintance (a close acquaintance it would seem) with Arthur, the very person he needed to keep his secret most hidden from. Sometimes, he just didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.

Therefore, he didn't really know what to do _other _than find Arthur. He reckoned that it might be quite a relief to see a familiar, friendly – well that was debatable – face once more. It would remind him that there was such a place as Camelot and home and all the places he remembered and yet could not reach.

Ellie nodded in response to his idea. "I think that's a good plan. Then we can tell him what's going on."

Merlin looked at her sharply. "But not about the magic."  
"But not about the magic," she repeated, "And don't mention _anything _of what I've said to you, okay, Merlin? You got that? I keep your secret and you keep mine." Her expression was so ferocious that Merlin wouldn't dare argue.

"Deal." Then, just as he headed towards the door, the young man turned around and with a questioning, slightly amused expression on his face, said: "By the way, what's your name?"

"Oh," the girl laughed, "I'm Ellie. And it is truly nice to meet you, Merlin. You are literally a legend."

"Right."

So, with this deal set in place, the two newly acquainted youths set forth from the room, leaving the beautiful, circular room of books behind. They were both sad to desert the literature but bigger things were calling them. Merlin had his spell book tucked under his arm. Hopefully, he could pass it off as just a boring old volume if Arthur asked. His abilities for lying, though, were seriously lacking so this could go horribly pear-shaped.

* * *

Walking down the corridor, Ellie leading the way, Merlin continued to drink in his surroundings. This place was so beautiful, full of grandeur. There was so much detail and so many stunning things to look at. Take the paintings for example; they had to be at least ten foot in height and five foot wide. They were mostly portraits of singular people, made beautiful by the paintbrush of a stranger. You couldn't see a floor in these people, on canvas they were perfection, as to the real life characters, well, one could never know. Merlin guessed if anyone saw a painting of Arthur they would think him handsome and gallant and noble. If only they met the real thing!

They had reached a landing. This landing had an overview of the massive hallway down below. Merlin paused and stared at another painting that hung above the front door. This one was in an enormous golden frame, enriched with cherubic heads and swirls and flowers. Inside the picture itself, was painted a family. Immediately, the warlock recognised two of them. Despite them both being youngsters, eight and ten respectively, Merlin knew the children were Nick and Pippa. Nick's mop of curly chestnut hair was unmistakable and Pippa's pretty, youthful features gave her away too. They both looked surprisingly alike as children, chubby, pink cheeks and high foreheads.

Merlin vaguely recognised the young version of their mother too. It was the two other members of the photo that intrigued the manservant. Standing, strangely upright in the back of the canvas was a dark featured man dressed in a smart suit. He was going silver at the temples. Merlin was reminded of someone but he couldn't remember who. Then he looked at the youngest member of the painting, inexplicably, he was looking at the spitting image of Arthur. Admittedly, much younger, about two, the boy had very similar features to the Prince of Camelot himself. His jaw line was less defined but would undoubtedly grow, he had fluffy blond hair and his eyes were eerily pale grey. He was the only one in the painting who seemed to be staring right at you.

"Ellie, who's that?" Merlin asked and the young woman turned round. She looked to where he was pointing and made a face.

"Oh, that's Tristan. He's the youngest Collingridge. A little twerp if you ask me."

Merlin nodded. "But…er….doesn't he remind you of anyone?"

Ellie frowned and scrutinised the face of the toddler, wondering what Merlin could be getting at. "No," she finally replied, "Why?"  
The young man shrugged, "Doesn't matter. So where do you think Arthur is?"

"My best guess would be somewhere round this house, that is if he's still hunting for me. If not, then he'll be with…." The girl trailed off, her mouth suddenly a turned down at the corners. "Anyway, come on." She grabbed Merlin's arm. As she did so she was reminded of how she'd had to guide (or drag) Arthur around when they'd first met. The difference between Merlin and Arthur was that the former came much more willingly, there was no pulling involved, and his arm was much, much slimmer. It was still muscular, no doubt from his time working as a servant for his master, but there was just less of it.

Merlin was working out what he would say in his head for when he met Arthur. There was no easy way to express things. Perhaps, he should say as little as possible and pretend that he had no idea what was going on. That was what Arthur was used to, wasn't it? A clueless manservant. And yet, Merlin was fed up of playing that role. It wasn't him.

But to tell the truth was suicide, no matter what Ellie said. In all honesty, not wanting to sound horrible, Merlin knew that _she _barely knew anything about Arthur. She obviously knew that he was from the past, how he had got her to believe that he would never know, but despite what she thought, she probably didn't know the real Arthur. Not many people knew the real Arthur. In fact, Merlin doubted whether even his own father did.

Despite appearing to be an oafish, cold-hearted, arrogant pig, there were more complex layers to the future King of Camelot than that. Not that Merlin was denying that Arthur wasn't any of those said things. There was just _more_. It was hard to explain.

By the way that Ellie had reacted to Arthur's actions towards this 'best friend' then she had no idea what he was capable of. Arthur was a handsome man. He was charming when he wanted to be. He could sometimes be nice. And yet he defaulted, for the majority, to a selfish, unobservant fool. Merlin knew he was fickle too, for a moment he would be into one woman and the next he would fall for a prettier, younger girl. It was just the way Arthur, and all his kind for that matter, acted.

At least she had learnt that lesson and wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Another thing that he pondered, in his zombie state of walking and yet not concentrating where he was going, was why Arthur had all these pretty, seemingly kind and caring girls running after him. They could do so much better. No, that was harsh, Arthur _was _a noble, brave and generous person (deep, _deep _down) but there were plenty of other men who were like that on the surface. Take Merlin for example. Merlin would never cheat on Ellie. He wouldn't even consider it. But then these girls would never consider him. *

It was the lament of every good, hardworking man.

"Can you hear that?" Ellie suddenly asked, snapping Merlin abruptly from his thoughts.

"What?" His ears perked up and his eyes glanced to her.

"I can hear voices. I swear that sounds like Arthur."

She was hurrying away from him now and Merlin had to lope after her down the corridor. It was strange running in a suit; they didn't really lend themselves to being run in. The material was very constricting on every front. And it chaffed.

Ellie had skidded to a halt. As Merlin halted, hastily, after her, a chaotic mess of limbs, he realised that she was still in those strangely tall, wobbly shoes. How on earth she managed to walk, let alone run, in them he couldn't fathom. Then again, he didn't have good balance at the best of times.

He'd practically tumbled over just now, trying to stop in time, and the young woman had had to put a hand on his chest to steady him. He waited until she bayed him to move. His light blue eyes followed the direction hers were focussed in and realised that there was a door, standing ajar, from which light was streaming in a thin puddle on the ground. Now he was here, he definitely heard Arthur's voice. It's well-educated; 'I'm better than you' tone was unmistakable.

This was it.

"Who's he talking to, I wonder…" Ellie said more to herself than anyone as she pushed open the door and stepped in. Merlin followed.

Sitting on a large bed were two boys, well, one man and one boy, both blond, their heads bent together. They were both pouring over a book. Beside them sat even more volumes, some scattered around the floor with their pages open at various places.

"Are we missing story time?" Ellie stated loudly, her eyebrow raised. "Can I change it to 'show and tell' instead? You'll never guess what I found, Arthur."

Arthur and Tristan both looked up, identical expressions of surprise on their faces.

"Ellie…" Arthur began, standing up.

And then he froze as she stepped aside to reveal a familiar tall, lanky figure with big ears and a goofy smile. "MERLIN!"

*** You can just feel the Merlin-Love in this chapter!**

**Please review! Love you guys!**


	20. Bedroom Reunion

**Author's Note - You have no idea how proud I am of myself. This chapter was so hard to write. I think it was because it was explaining things rather than things _happening._ Also, I don't really like writing lots of dialogue because I think it interrupts the story's flow. Still, I hope you enjoy it. **

**Thanks to: KnightGuardian, Crown-Daydreamer, GhibliGirl91 (all will be revealed!), bcargill9, Reona, MagicByMerlin, debookworm01, XxBlueSkiesxX, Nikki Diamond, Mini Librarian, Becca1938, MegElemental, Basia Orci, laurajslr, writing-at-random and Isis the Sphinx.  
**

No one was quite sure what to say. They all stood in a stunned silence: Merlin wondering whether he was about to get hit or hugged; Ellie thinking that perhaps there could've been a better way of reintroducing the two; Tristan who had know idea what was going on and Arthur who was judging what to say next. Needless to say, he was the one who broke the curtain of silence.

"Where the hell have you been, you _idiot_?!" He marched forward and then halted. Suddenly _he _wasn't sure what to do with himself. However, he brushed that off immediately, in typical Arthur fashion, by continuing to insult Merlin – from a distance. "Here I've been, searching the length and breadth of the country for my stupid, absent servant and here _you've _been…." He stopped. "Actually, where have you been?"

"Well, I would've said," Merlin replied with his usually cheeky grin, "If I could've gotten a word in edgeways…" He dodged a blow as Arthur got closer. "…my lord."

Ellie was astonished by the impertinence that the manservant managed to load into those two words with very little effort. Also by the fact that Arthur, the future king of Camelot, didn't even admonish him. Then again, she recalled the fact that Arthur had referred to Merlin more often as a friend than a servant. Now, she got to see their relationship in the full though. It was blatant to her that they wanted to have physical contact with each other, just to check that the other was real. Obviously, though, judging by their awkward advances, it wasn't something they did often – if at all.

"Well, are you going to tell me, Merlin? Or are you just going to _pretend _you have something interesting to say."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "I've been in Bristol." The way he said it was almost proud.

"Bristol?" Arthur didn't sound impressed. "Where on earth is that? Merlin, are you making that up?"

"We're just a couple of miles away from Bristol, Arthur," Ellie interjected.

He glanced at her. "Oh. Well, I've been in London."

"Right," Merlin nodded.

"Aren't you going to ask me where that is?"

"I know where that is."

The prince looked surprised. "How?"

"I looked at a map," the manservant retorted, smugly.

It was Arthur's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Are you trying to be smart with me, _Mer_lin?"

"No, sire," Merlin replied with entire sincerity. It was clear though, that his words were meant to be mocking.

The two stared at each other for a moment, like two wolves of a pack judging each other after a long time apart. Could they get along again? Merlin scratched the back of his head and Arthur chewed his lip.

"Oh, just hug already," Ellie sighed, fed up of the tension.

"What?!" Both boys yelped in unison.

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur stated just as Merlin said. "I'd rather not."

"Fine, it was just a suggestion," she shrugged, colouring.

Arthur looked at his manservant with relief in his eyes. He couldn't believe that he'd actually managed to find him; especially, considering the fact that he'd been in a completely different city. It was a miracle. To see him standing there in a too big suit with his hair in complete disarray and his ears sticking out was a welcome sight to the prince of Camelot. He was a familiar, friendly face. Also, he was a reminder that Arthur wasn't going insane and that he was from the past.

Merlin stared at his master with a faint worry in his eyes. Although he was glad to see Arthur, the boy couldn't help wonder what he would think of Merlin's lame excuses as to how they ended up here. In fact, he wasn't even sure how _Arthur _ended up here. He hadn't been there when the spell had been cast, had he? And why on earth did he end up in London? Surely, they should have been closer. It made little sense; like the gods were trying to tease them by overcomplicating things.

"How…er….did you end up here?" he broached the subject, tentatively. As he said it, he didn't miss the sideways glance thrown at him by Ellie.

"Same way as you, probably, I walked into the cave and _bam _I ended up face down in the grass in a park. I got taken to ho-hospital." Even having said it plenty of times, Arthur still struggled with the word. "Because of this…" he gestured to his tender but mostly healed nose. "And that's where I met Ellie. Then we went searching for you."

"Oh, yeah, that's how I got here too," Merlin nodded, glad to see that his master wasn't in any way suspicious. Sometimes he could be so blind. "I ended up…"

But before he could finish his sentence, the bedroom door was pushed open and Pippa stumbled in. She froze, wobbling slightly in her high heels, as she caught sight of all the people in the room. Then she blinked. Twice.

"Er…what is….huh….what's going on?" She finally managed to get her words out.

"That's what I'd like to know," Tristan piped up from where he had been sat, ignored as the conversation progressed, "I'd also like to know why the hell this little 'reunion' has to take place in _my _bedroom?"

"Shut up, Tristan," Pippa snapped. She turned to stare at the others. "Merlin! I was wondering where you'd got to!"

It was everyone else's turn to be surprised. Both Ellie and Arthur turned to look at the raven-haired young man with identical expressions of shock on their faces. Merlin didn't really know why they were so shocked. He knew this girl. What was so important about that? It certainly wasn't cause for Arthur's jaw to drop and for Ellie's eyes to pop out.

"I was in the library," Merlin informed her, "Nick told me to do what I wanted."

"Yeah, I'm sorry I left you." The girl looked apologetic, then she looked from Merlin to Arthur and back again and her eyebrows raised. "Do you two know each other?"

"He's my ser…." Arthur began but was cut off seamlessly by Merlin.

"Serving partner at the hospital. We work in the….kitchens."

"I thought you were a porter?" Pippa looked suspicious.

"I am….I do lots of jobs. Lots and lots." He shot a meaningful glare at the prince who ignored him completely. "Never get an hour's rest. Always, 'do this Merlin. Do that'."

Pippa nodded. His answer seemed to suffice. "Poor you. Is that why you crashed at our place? Because you needed a break? I bet Nick wanted to help."

"Yep, that's…right." Agreeing immediately with the woman's assumptions, Merlin grinned slightly when he saw Arthur mouthing: 'you stayed with _her_?' at him. He ducked his head. "But how do you know Arthur?"

"I…er….he…." the girl flushed bright red and Arthur looked sheepishly at Ellie. Finally, the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place.

It was so unfair. That was all Merlin could think. He had fancied Pippa since the moment he had met her; thought her beautiful and funny but had never expected to get anywhere with her. She was too above him, both in status and in looks. She was way too good for him. And then Arthur comes along, all the way from London, meets her once and has a 'fling'. The manservant painfully recalled Ellie's description of it, how they 'got off'. He shuddered at the thought. How come Arthur always got the ladies? At the back of his mind, he knew the answer, but he could still moan if he wanted.

Arthur got the girls. He got poisoned by the one girl he fancied. Arthur got the glory. He got overlooked. Arthur was noble. He was a clumsy, insignificant serving-peasant. Arthur was to be king. He was to be….what?

His mouth was set in a thin line, his ocean blue eyes dark with irritation. This expression wasn't like him, wasn't in his character, therefore, Arthur immediately noticed.

He didn't say anything though, didn't want to embarrass his manservant. However, he immediately sussed out what Merlin was thinking. Over a time, they had gotten to know one another so well. Arthur now realised that not only had he hurt Ellie by kissing Pippa but he'd also hurt Merlin. The boy would never say anything, he knew that, it wasn't in his nature to be angry and jealous; he would keep quiet and watch, betrayed. Arthur felt even worse.

Really, he wanted to get away from here. There were too many people about. People, he guessed by Merlin's very unsubtle hints to Ellie, that didn't know about their background. How could they be expected to talk properly, to work out a way home, when they were choosing their words so carefully? They needed a quiet place to escape.

Then he realised that he might as well do what he always did and that was to merely order Merlin from the room in order to speak to him. No one would have the gall to follow.

"Merlin, may I speak with you….alone?"

"I'm guessing that's not really a request?" Merlin made a face.

"You're right," Arthur answered, a wry smile on his lips, "Now, follow me, idiot-boy."

Merlin sighed. He would just have to get over himself. That's what he always did.

The two left the room. Pippa and Ellie and Tristan were left staring at one another, wondering what to do. It was Pippa who remembered why she was here first and that was to apologise to Ellie. She turned to her best friend, brushing her blonde hair behind her ear, she made a contrite face. It was the expression that she always used when she'd done something wrong and wanted Ellie to forgive her. Unfortunately, judging by the look in Ellie's dark eyes, it wasn't going to work this time. Obviously, she'd struck a deep nerve.

"Tristan," she began, "Will you leave?"

"It's my bedroom!" the boy exclaimed, outraged.

"And I'm your older sister and I'm telling you to sod off. If you don't, I'll tell Mother about the weed I found in your coat pocket."

"You wouldn't!" His eyes were as round as saucers.

"I won't if you go away," Pippa replied.

"That's blackmail. You cow. It was only the once." As Tristan mumbled this, he left the room, shooting filthy glares back at his sibling as he went.

Ellie stared after him, astonished. "He's fourteen!" She looked back at her friend, horror in her eyes. "How can you let him smoke weed and get away with it?!"

Pippa frowned at her. "As he said, it was the only the once. He hated the stuff. Thank god. I would've gone to Mother and Father if it had become a problem."

The other girl raised her eyebrows. "He's a child."

"I know."

"Do you know what that could do to his body? It could…"

"Oh, spare me the doctor-lecture, El, I'm not in the mood." Pippa sighed, exasperated.

"Hey, you're the one who is supposed to be sucking up to me, to make me forgive you, not the other way round." Ellie looked irritated and exasperated. Sometimes, Pippa could be so selfish.

Pippa looked sheepish. "Sorry, you're right. I'm really, truly, one hundred percent, very sorry for making out with Arthur when it was obvious that you liked him." Her words were joking but her tone sincere. Ellie observed her for a moment. Somehow, she could never remain angry at the young woman for long. It irked her something dreadful but she was a forgiving person.

"_Fine_." She relented.

"Hug?"

"Definitely." The pair embraced.

* * *

Sitting, perched on a strange window sill that seemed to be without a window, Merlin watched as his master paced backwards and forwards down the hall. His shoes echoed, noisily, on the hard, wooden floor. The young warlock was getting neck strain from turning his head too often. However, he was revelling in the coolness of the bare stone which was set into the alcove and the roughness and realness of it against his back. It reminded him of home.

In fact, it reminded him of the times that he'd managed to grab a minute or two for himself, when he wasn't working hard for Arthur or running an errand for Gaius, when he would collapse in a tiny, hidden crevice in the wall. That was his resting place, his safe haven. Nobody, not even the servants that passed, ever noticed he was there. They were far too busy to look into alcoves and such.

Behind Arthur, stood a very tall suit of armour that was bathed in the warm glow of a nearby light. It practically sparkled. As he stared at it, the manservant wondered whether his master missed passing his time hunting and being a knight. Judging by the look of severe concentration on his face, he did. Arthur _really _wanted to get home.

Merlin swung his legs, aimlessly, and worried his lip, waiting for the young prince to finally stop his relentless movement. Perhaps, if he began whistling, it would distract him from his deep, anxious thoughts.

"Merlin! Stop that whistling." Arthur was onto him like a hawk on a mouse. His clear blue eyes tinted with annoyance. "Can't you see I'm trying to think?"

"I'm sorry, sire, you do it so very little, that I'm finding it difficult to tell the difference." A small smile curled his lip.

"Oh, ha, ha, very funny. This isn't a laughing matter. This is the matter of whether we ever get back to Camelot or not." Arthur's face was wrought with angst.

"Do you even want to go back? I mean, you seem to have made a lot of new _friends _here." There was a bite to Merlin's usually playful tone. It seemed he had still not quite gotten over his bitterness at Arthur's endless good fortune.

Arthur glared at him. "Of course I do, you idiot, I am heir to the throne. I _need _to be there. In all the stories that boy had, Tristan, I became King of Camelot and did so many great things. I mean, in one story I draw a sword from a stone."

Sword from a stone? What an interesting idea. Merlin would store that away for future use. Or past use….that didn't make any sense.

"Am I in them?" Merlin pondered aloud.

"Surprisingly, yes, you're this old man that gives me advice. Seems you are destined never to leave my service," Arthur smirked, evilly. He didn't realise the significance of his words.

"Why the hell am I always portrayed as old?"

"How should I know? Anyway, back to the real problem here and that is returning home. Have you any idea how we got here in the first place? I mean, you were in the cave before me. Surely, you saw something."

Merlin shrugged.

"A flash of light," he suggested, meekly.

"God, you really are useless, Merlin, aren't you?"

"It would seem so."

Arthur made a grunting noise and returned to his pacing. His jaw was set in a firm line and his eyes were cloudy and distant. Merlin wondered whether to tell him what he knew. Perhaps, they could solve things them. But how to phrase it…

"I think it was magic," Merlin finally said. He wasn't surprised by Arthur's reaction. His head whipped round so fast it looked like it would fly loose.

"Why would you say that?" His voice was calm but there was an underlying current of hatred and fear.

"Because…" the boy paused, "I saw someone, in the cave, they said something. I don't know what. Maybe a spell. They had…they had a crystal in their hand. The crystal must've somehow helped trigger the time jump. That and the magic."

Arthur frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

The future king of Camelot looked genuinely baffled. "But what could an evil sorcerer possibly gain from sending me…and you, I suppose….into the future?"

"Maybe, he didn't mean to."

"Don't be dim, Merlin."


	21. Another Spell Book

**Author's Note - This is a mainly Merlin** **centric chapter. Arthur centric next chapter. Just so you know, it is going to get more dramatic. I can never go long without a bit of drama.**

**I really enjoyed the episode just gone. Love Merlin a lot, even more than before. He's so lovely! Sad that Arthur still hasnt started being more of a friend to Merlin yet rather than a master. He should have been more worried when Merlin didnt show up for work!**

**Thanks to: CB, ****uneatenbonbon13****, ****MySisterThinksI'mCrazy****, ****Isis the Sphinx****, laurajslr, ****MegElemental****, ****GhibliGirl91****, ****bcargill9****, ****debookworm01****, ****MagicByMerlin****, ****writing-at-random****, ****Norwegian Blue****, ****Mini Librarian**** and ****XxBlueSkiesxX**** for reviewing!**

Merlin was in the library again. However, this time he had someone else with him. This someone was not as patient or as interested as Ellie had been in the books. Arthur was not one to sit around and do nothing. In fact, the young manservant doubted whether he'd set foot in the castle library in his life; well, not without being forced. The prince was definitely an outdoorsy kind of person.

Really, he wasn't sure why Arthur had followed him in here. When Pippa had granted them all residence in the manor for the night, he had expected most people to head straight for the allocated bedrooms. Pippa and Ellie had already turned in – they had gone to bed in high spirits, chatting like two schoolgirls, all previous enmity forgotten. Fortunately, Arthur didn't seem too bothered about rekindling the relationship between himself and Pippa so Ellie didn't have to be upset again. Merlin was glad about that.

Instead, though, the prince had insisted on tailing Merlin and annoying him constantly. One moment he would be tapping his foot, the impatient noise loud on the wooden floor, and the next he would be rapping his knuckles on the hollow bookcases, making up little tunes for himself. It was incredibly frustrating. Merlin could just not concentrate at all; every time he found a book and began to read he would be distracted by the incessant knocking sound.

How was he supposed to find them a way back home if he couldn't even research without Arthur bugging him?!

Letting out a sigh of irritation, Merlin slammed his current tome closed and shot a glare up at his master. The blond haired man seemed not to register his expression as he began to whistle tunelessly. That was the last straw.

"Haven't you got anything better to do?" the manservant, finally, snapped.

Arthur looked at him, surprised. Then he said, "I don't see how us being here is helping to find the crystal."

After much discussion, with Ellie's help as well, they had concluded that the crystal was at the crux of the matter and without it they were stuck. Therefore, they needed renew their efforts in looking for it. Well, Arthur had already pointed out that they hadn't actually been looking for it, they had been looking for Merlin so it was hardly their fault it hadn't been found yet; it was Merlin's. The warlock didn't find that at all helpful.

What to do when – if - they found the crystal would be addressed when they came to it. There was no point in speculating too early on. Merlin was still pondering whether there was a way he could use his magic without Arthur realising. That seemed unlikely because he would need the prince to cooperate in the jump back in time. He had to be in the know. However, his worries and stress were eased slightly by the fact that Ellie knew about his crisis. At least he had someone to confide him. And Nick too. Though, actually, come to think of it, he hadn't seen Nick in awhile.

Merlin nodded, abruptly. "You're right; its not. Why don't you go and get onto that?"

"I'm not leaving you…" Arthur said with a frown.

"Oh," Merlin raised an eyebrow and smirked, cheekily. Now he understood.

"It's not like that, you idiot…" Arthur immediately denied the young man's unspoken suggestion "…okay, so it is. I'm just worried you're going to vanish into thin air or something."

"And leave you behind?"

"And leave me behind," he nodded. Merlin could tell he was fighting an inner battle over his obvious feelings for his manservant. Now that he had Merlin back in his eyesight, he didn't want to lose him. They were close, they were friends and Arthur certainly didn't want to lose his friend again.

"I won't leave you, Arthur," Merlin sighed.

The prince shot him a cynical look. "You don't know that."

"Look, I promise…I promise I won't vanish. I will stay in this room and look at these books and not move from this spot, even if I really, really need to relieve myself. But will you _please _go away!"

Arthur looked slightly offended but then he grinned, satisfied. Merlin was surprised his promise had had such an effect. Obviously, the prince trusted him more than he thought. "All right then, I'll leave you to your reading. Tell me if you find anything. I'll go to bed. There's no point in me searching for the crystal now. I wouldn't even know where to start."

He began to leave. Inside, the warlock did a little dance of joy. He was free. Arthur's hand was on the door handle and then he stopped. Merlin groaned internally. Please _go_, he thought. _Leave me in peace! _The young, golden haired man turned back, his eyes dark in the shadow of the door.

"Just…make sure you get _some _sleep, Merlin," he said, as if not sure of his words.

"Yes, _Mother_," Merlin replied. After he'd spoken, he realised that perhaps it was an insensitive phrase to use, what with Arthur not having had a mother. Still, too late now.

Fortunately, the older man looked nonplussed. He began to head out of the door again. _Finally_.

And then he turned back. _Damn_.

"Oh, and Merlin-"

"Yes?"

"You _can_ go to use the bathroom if you want." Arthur grinned. "I don't want you wetting yourself on my account." Then he ducked out of the room.

* * *

Once he was alone, Merlin could do what he really wanted and that was to select all the books he wanted off the shelves using magic. It was so much easier than lugging the ladder to each individual shelf in order to collect a specific volume. Now, they all flew through the air towards him, from various points around the room, like birds to a bird table. He had been planning to pile them neatly on the floor for him, ready to peruse, but things didn't go quite as expected and so they just ended up in a big heap surrounding him. Oh well, they were within arms reach. Merlin had never been the tidiest or most organised of people. Both his mother and Gaius could vouch for that.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for. To be honest, having exhausted the use of his own battered spell book, he was searching for new alternatives. Surely, if there was one spell book hidden in the depths of this vast library then there would be another. Perhaps, dare he hope it, a treasure trove of them? That would be good.

It would seem that good fortune _was _with him (for once) and three other spell books found their way onto his lap. They were similar to the original one but slightly less old, if it was possible to tell. Inside them were lists and lists of spells. In Merlin's opinion, they were in a much more random order; as if someone had just written them down as they came into his head. The writing was a scruffy, slanting scrawl, inked in a black quill it would seem. Fingering the letters gently, Merlin suddenly realised, with a rush of clarity, whose hand had written these words.

His.

_He_, Merlin, the novice, inexperienced warlock, had written a spell book. It was hard to believe. So hard, in fact, that Merlin had to check by writing out a few words on a spare piece of paper with a nearby biro. The shape of the letters was near identical.

But they were so complicated, the spells. At this moment in time, he couldn't even begin to fathom how to perform them but obviously, some future version of himself knew. Perhaps, he could have even invented the incantations himself. They seemed so foreign. Beside each spell was a brief description of what they did. Merlin began to read, enraptured, his raven head bent over the page.

_Fyridyn Plor – fire ball (can be sent over long distances but best used in close proximity)_

_Hugris Daretin – makes ghosts appear (use with caution, they tend not to go away)_

_Yslesi – icy weather (wear warm clothes, immediately effective)_

_Borving Franngi – melts opposition (don't use unless really necessary. Very nasty)_

It was so strange, seeing these notes made in his hand about spells that he'd never even performed. Obviously, the future – or past – Merlin had a lot of experience with the ups and downs of these enchantments. Although some of them were quite 'nasty' he couldn't help but feel slightly warmed by the fact that he seemed to become powerful and wise enough to perform such magic. At the moment, he could only dream of it.

And if this book was here then surely that meant that he had to get back to his own time. Otherwise, how on earth would he write it?

Filled with hope, Merlin flicked fervently through the yellowed, torn pages and scanned them for a spell that he could use in his current predicament. Surely, his future self would have considered putting the enchantment in his book considering the fact he would have known he would need the spell now. If that made _any _sense at all.

And there is was.

Merlin could hardly believe his eyes at first. Inked in identical black writing to the rest of the book was a spell which would solve all his problems. He even recognised it vaguely as the one he'd spoken all that time ago in the cave.

_Tempus surgi – a spell to jump in time (use rarely, seriously unpredictable. Specific crystal needed in order for it to work. Same crystal must be used to return to original time)_

He was right about the crystal then. That had been an important part of performing the spell. Therefore, he still couldn't get home until he had found that gem. Although he had taken a huge leap forward in knowledge, he couldn't _do _any more than he could have before. That was thoroughly frustrating.

Throwing the book to one side, Merlin clambered to his feet. He had the spell memorised now, burned into his brain. _Tempus surgi_. It was his ticket home. His and Arthur's. How on earth was he supposed to tell him? As he walked forward, he forgot about the sea of books strewn at his feet. Awhile ago, the young man had shed his boots and so when he knocked his toe on a seriously heavy tome, it really bloody hurt.

"Ouch!" he yelped, hopping manically on one foot and willing the pain away.

Once the majority of the pain had subsided, he glared at the book that had caused him so much agony and pushed it away so he had a clear path to the door. Why did he have to be so clumsy? It was a wonder that he'd managed to survive through life for this long. Arthur was always commenting on his clumsiness and knack for getting into trouble. He was completely right.

It was as he was reaching for the light switch, to turn it off before he left the room that Merlin was made to jump right out of his skin by a figure that stepped out of the shadows.

"Were you planning on tidying up your mess or were you hoping that the house fairies would do the job for you?"

A wrinkled face appeared, illuminated by the lamp that hung in the bracket by the door. Large, owl-like eyes peered at Merlin in an almost gleeful way. The young man wasn't sure what to make of the stranger as he stepped out of the darkness. A silvery beard coated his chin and bushy, white eyebrows that looked like caterpillars dusted in icing sugar sat on his forehead. Those owl eyes watched him with something akin to amusement, their green depths hiding many secrets – something the young warlock could relate to.

Fortunately, judging by his expression, the elderly man didn't look at all bothered really by the act he had caught Merlin in. In fact, he seemed to be rather enjoying the scared-rabbit look in his victim's eyes. The tiny little lines in the corners of his own eyes were the telltale signs of a life of laughter.

"House fairies?" Merlin gulped. Still unsure as to where he stood.

"Was that a query or a choice? Because I'm afraid that we don't have any fairies in service at the moment. You see, they prefer the warmer summer weather rather than our harsh British winters. They migrate to Africa for the winter. Have a wail of a time from what I've heard."

"Er…"

"I only ask because should my wife see the state of the library – not that she ventures up here often; books give her hives apparently – then she would probably have a miniature seizure."

"Um…."

"And she would probably blame me. I wouldn't be allowed pork pies for a week and god knows how I love my pork pies. Probably why I'm a bit of a porker myself." The old man grinned, patting his nonexistent stomach with a bony, veined hand.

Merlin blinked and scratched his head, his mouth opening and closing uselessly.

"Sorry, how rude of me, I haven't introduced myself. Then again, one doesn't tend to find a young man wandering around in his library in the middle of the night so perhaps I may be excused. My name is Sir Geoffrey Collingridge."

"You're a knight?" Merlin breathed.

"Dubbed by the Queen herself. Lovely lady. Anyway, your name is?"

"Merlin, sir."

"Ah, Merlin, wonderful name, full of character, never met a Merlin I didn't like. No doubt named after the great wizard himself?"

"You could say that." Merlin gave a weak laugh.

Geoffrey had stepped further into the room; he was interestedly perusing the titles of the books that Merlin had cast carelessly across the floor. He was a tall man; Merlin could see that now; now he was in full view, with neatly combed hair and a straight back. He still looked very distinguished even though he was standing in a pair of dark green silk pyjamas. The warlock also recognised him as the man in the portrait he'd seen on the landing. He was Pippa and Nick and Tristan's father.

The man suddenly came across a book that made his eyes light up. He bent down and picked up a leather bound volume, he flicked through the pages. "A spell book. I haven't seen this before." He turned to look at Merlin, his green eyes piercing. "Is it yours?"

"Yes…I mean, no, sorry, no. I found it here."

"One of mine? Well, I can't say I'm too surprised; there are so many books here that I've never had time to read them all. I would need so many more lifetimes. However, this does look an interesting read. Any particular reason you chose this one?"

Merlin shook his head quickly. "No."

Geoffrey raised one caterpillar eyebrow but said nothing.

"You see." He seemed to have moved on. His gnarled fingers were running along the spines of books on the shelf behind the desk now. He looked to be searching for something. "For me, personally, I love the books of legends. You can't beat a great legend; good for the heart I say: romance, battles, treachery, heroics, tragedy, victory… It's better than a Shakespeare play. Now, I like the Greek myths and Roman legends but I have to say my favourite, by far, is the tale of King Arthur. Maybe now you'll understand why your name struck such a chord with me. There is so much to delve into, so many versions, conflicting and confusing one another. I love the fact there isn't just _one _true legend."

Merlin was staring at this man in stunned silence. He had no idea what to say so he let the man continue.

"I mean who wouldn't love the figure of King Arthur, such a noble, brave man who did everything to help his people. A courageous skilled knight and horseman too, with his Knights of the Round Table: Sir Bedivere, Sir Lancelot, Sir Gawain…and of course, the infamous Queen Guinevere. Doesn't she just make it all the more romantic?"

The fellow had found what he had been hunting for; he had pulled a tome from the shelf and dusted it off. He looked up at Merlin, as if searching for an answer, when he didn't receive one, however, he didn't seem too bothered and just continued with his task. Carefully, he teased open the pages and flicked through a couple. Then he gestured for the young man to come over. Merlin complied, though not completely willingly.

"You see?" He pointed at the picture on the page that depicted a golden headed man riding a white stallion with a shining silver sword glowing in the air above his head. Around him young men stood in knights' garb, their eyes all staring up at their glorious king.

"I see," Merlin nodded, his cheeks paling. He _saw_ that he was not included in this picture of splendour. And that hurt. It was like an icy dagger had speared his heart and splintered, leaving shards of pain embedded in the soft, vulnerable tissue.

His interest in what Geoffrey had to say was waning now, after that severe blow. There was Arthur. And there he _wasn't_.

"This house is built on what is said to be the remains of Camelot Castle. My wife hated the idea, thought there may be ghosts wondering about the place; things that go bump in the night. What a silly notion." Geoffrey let out a booming laugh that caused Merlin to jump, startled, his blue eyes flashing momentarily, instinctively. "It is even said." He looked at Merlin in a conspiratorial way, like an uncle revealing that he'd hidden some sweets under a plant pot at the end of the garden for you to find. "That our family, the Collingridges, are the descendants of King Arthur himself. Now, I know, if you look in the legends it claims that he had some sons, most of which died childless: Llacheu and Duran to name a couple. However, some have read very, very deep into the folklore and have discovered he had a daughter. She was never mentioned. Not important enough really but it is said we are her kin."

Merlin wasn't sure what to say. He suspected that Geoffrey was right considering that's what he'd thought when he'd first seen the painting of Tristan, and of Geoffrey for that matter who resembled Uther quite a lot but in a less strict way, but now he was fairly certain.

It was like a final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. Fate had brought them here, him and Arthur, to this time and to these people because they were the descendants of the Pendragons. Why? Merlin had no idea. Perhaps, he had learnt the lesson that he should never try out spells without knowing what they did first.

"I think, that maybe, you should be going to bed, young man. You look dead on your feet."

Those owl eyes were piercing him again, scrutinising him. Merlin agreed hurriedly and decided that that was probably a good idea. Just as he was about to leave, he remembered the books.

"Oh, don't bother," Geoffrey waved him away, "You just go off to bed. Oh, actually, before you toddle off, here, you can look in this book. It's got some interesting bits and bobs in. There's some of Merlin too. If that's what you're interested in."

A warm feeling rose in the pit of the warlock's stomach. Perhaps, he hadn't been forgotten completely. Gratefully, he took the proffered volume and said goodbye before leaving. There was a spring in his step now; even more so when he walked down a passage and saw Arthur standing outside Ellie's door. He looked nervous.

Merlin smiled. Maybe, he would finally apologise.

**Whoop! That was a long chapter! Hope you liked!**


	22. Apologies

**Author's Note - This one is much shorter. Sorry, I hope you enjoy it though. **

**Thanks to: MagicByMerlin, laurajslr, MegElemental, uneatenbonbon13, Isis the Sphinx, Basia Orci, writing-at-random, Becca1938, bcargill9, GhibliGirl91 and XxBlueSkiesxX.**

Hovering by the door, the young prince shifted from foot to foot and wondered what he was going to say. How could he make her not hate him? A moment ago, he had seen Merlin creep down the corridor behind him and heard the snort of laughter that he released upon seeing the nervous Arthur. That didn't boost his confidence, surprisingly. Generally, having your woman-illiterate manservant snigger at you was not a good sign. Still, he would persevere. They could be going home any day now and who knew whether he would get another chance to say what he wanted to say.

It was true, when he'd first met Ellie; he hadn't thought much of her. In fact, he hadn't thought much of anyone from this time; his mind had been, unsurprisingly, rather preoccupied. She was just a woman that had intruded on his confused state of a life, albeit unintentionally. He supposed that she would have never dreamed as to what she would find out about this crazy man in the hospital bed who claimed to be some long dead monarch. Most likely, it never even crossed her mind that his mad ramblings could be true. To be fair to her, it didn't cross anyone's mind.

When she had begrudgingly helped him, despite his sexist views on life, neither of them had particularly liked each other. Ellie couldn't help being a nice person who had seen him in need and known she couldn't very well just leave him to his own devices. Without her, he probably wouldn't be here now, not with all his body parts intact anyway – he almost owed his life to her or at the very least a debt of gratitude.

Arthur had seen her as a provider of food and shelter and an anchor in this insane new world. He hadn't expected to grow attached to her. He would never have imagined _falling _for her. Then again, he could say the same about Merlin – not the falling part! – when they had been thrown unceremoniously together. No one would have ever suspected them becoming friends; in fact, he didn't think anyone ever thought they would even _like _one another. But they had…in their own, roundabout way, come to care and respect for one another. They rarely showed it but the bond was there. It was the short talk that he'd had with Merlin earlier in the evening that had actually led him to this point, outside Ellie's door, ready to ask for forgiveness. He wasn't sure what it was about that boy but he could be amazingly persuasive.

Why hadn't the door opened! He was in two minds whether to just open it himself but he knew that was rather presumptuous and also very rude. He hated it when people walked into his room without knocking (the only exception to this rule being Merlin, he was like a disobedient puppy and Arthur had given up training him). Your bedroom was your personal space, your private place and other people had no right barging in. But also, people should have the decency to _open _their door when other people knocked!

And finally, it did.

Ellie appeared, her head poking round the door, her eyes bleary with sleep and her hair a wild mess framing her heart-shaped face. It was only then that Arthur remembered it was two o'clock in the morning. Perhaps, that was why she didn't answer her door immediately. She looked at him, blinked, and looked at him again.

"_Arthur_," she eventually hissed, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I've come to issue an apology." That came out wrong. Even to Arthur's ears. He cursed himself.

Ellie stared at him, incredulously, like she couldn't believe his audacity. "_Issue_ an apology? Most people tend to just _give _it but then Prince's aren't the giving type, are they?" Her eyes were brightening, becoming harder as she became more aware of the situation.

"I didn't mean to say it like that."

"Oh? And how did you mean to say it?" Ellie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her disbelief grew further, however, as Arthur stepped into the room. "Oh, and please, do come in. Make yourself at home."

Arthur knew he'd overstepped his boundaries but, frankly, he didn't care, he needed to make this right and to make this right he needed to be _in _the room, not standing in the corridor. He needed to see her fully. There she was, dressed in a borrowed set of pyjamas made up of tartan bottoms and a baggy red top, her feet were bare and cold looking and her slender arms were crossed over her chest. She looked vulnerable and yet fiery at the same time.

With her mouth set in a thin line, she watched, waiting for Arthur to do something, like a predatory cat waiting for the mouse to make its last, fatal mistake.

Turning to her, his blue eyes shining with earnest, Arthur said, "I'm sorry. I really am. I'm truly, truly sorry. I was a….dick?" He used a word that he'd only recently learnt from a show on the television. It seemed appropriate. He was relieved when he saw the corner of Ellie's mouth turn up very slightly. "Pippa was….Pippa was a mistake. I had too much to drink and she didn't mean anything."

"She's my friend," Ellie stated, matter-of-factly.

Arthur backtracked furiously, "No, I mean…she did mean something…er…." He watched the young woman's pale face every time he said a word, trying to judge how it would be received. Finally, he just gave up.

"Ellie," he said, taking a deep breath, "She didn't mean anything because the only person that means anything to me is you." And Merlin, a little voice in his head added mentally.

"And Merlin," Ellie smiled, albeit a very small smile. She knew exactly what he was thinking; it was a little perturbing.

Arthur nodded, uncertainly. He wondered what she would say next.

She let out a long sigh. "I can't believe you actually admitted it. I didn't think you liked me. I didn't think _I _liked _you_, but you know what? I do."

"Well that's a relief." The prince blew out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

"And Pippa didn't mean anything to you?"

"No, I barely know her."

"You barely know me," Ellie pointed out, frowning.

Arthur fought back a chuckle at her worry. "I know you enough."

They both fell silent. Not sure what course of action that they should take next. Their eyes met momentarily.

Arthur leant in for the kiss; his lips touched hers in a moment of feather light contact before pressing more firmly. Their mouths opened slightly as the kiss grew more intense, then….

"Oh, geez, haven't you ever heard of toothpaste?" Ellie had pulled back, abruptly, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she wiped her mouth on her pyjama sleeve. Arthur looked stunned, like a little boy who'd had his favourite toy ripped away from him. "Your mouth is _disgusting_." She said it slowly, enunciating every word.

"I'm sorry," Arthur finally found his voice. It wasn't very often he was turned down in the middle of a kiss. "But no I haven't. Care to enlighten me?"

"Before this can go _any _further, you have to learn some mouth hygiene. Let's see if I can find you a toothbrush."

It was about ten minutes later when they finally returned to the position they were in before. Arthur had a newly brushed set of teeth and his breath was 'minty fresh', to quote the packet. Ellie was now considering kissing him once again; she'd just hoped she'd done enough to erase the chances of a repeat encounter. Tentatively, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth gently upon his. Much better. She couldn't believe Pippa had ever kissed him without the toothpaste lesson.

Now though, she revelled in the feel of his mouth on hers, the softness of his hair in the fingers she tangled through it, the roughness and manliness of his unshaven jaw. He had such a lovely jaw; angular and strong. She planted butterfly kisses up it, smiling as he smiled. This felt so right. He may be a man from the past and technically over one thousand years old but, to be honest, she didn't give a damn. Tonight, he was hers.

And as Ben put it all those days ago, it was 'about time she had a little bit of fun'.

* * *

Morning came and with it a lot of realisations. The sun shone through the crack in the curtains, bathing the bed in a warm pool of light, rousing the occupants from their slumbers. A groan accompanied a blond head as it popped out from beneath the covers; blue eyes blinked sleepily. The young man yawned widely and then looked to his right, remembering with whom he had shared this bed last night. Ellie was sprawled beside him, her hair spilled onto the pillow and her nose buried in an uncomfortable looking way in the material. One arm was above the covers, the other beneath; her legs entangled in his, he could feel the softness of her skin against his.

In one way, he couldn't believe what had happened last night but in another he was so, so glad that it had. He supposed he hadn't exactly _expected _bedding Ellie but that sort of seemed the culture in this day and age. He wasn't about to complain. Besides, she looked so beautiful and peaceful, fast asleep, he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Still, this advancement in their relationship didn't come without its consequences. For example, when they finally left, it would make it much more difficult to say goodbye. Arthur wasn't saying _he _couldn't do it – unfortunately, he had got losing the people he cared about down to a fine art by now – but it was Ellie he was worried about. Would he break her heart? Perhaps, he was being too assuming. Maybe, she wouldn't even care. Even he knew he was kidding himself when he thought that.

Gently, he reached out and stroked a soft lock of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

"D'you mind?" A muffled voice asked. Arthur smirked, he hadn't realised she was awake.

"Sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Nah," Ellie mumbled before dragging her face out of the pillow and looking at him with sluggish eyes. She rubbed one with her free hand (the other having being caught in Arthur's beneath the quilt). "Already awake. Just kept eyes closed." She blinked.

"Wow, you really can't form full sentences in the morning, can you?"

"I don't start operating properly until ten o'clock." She glanced at the side clock and saw that it was only eight. Why the hell were they up so early?

Arthur laughed when he saw her face.

"S'not funny," she growled, playfully.

"Of course not," he grinned, "You sound like an angry kitten."

"That's what I was going for." Ellie stuck her pointed pink tongue out at him.

It was at that moment that the door to the bedroom suddenly burst open and a tall, bumbling figure appeared, catching himself just before he sprawled completely on the floor. Arthur raised his eyebrows, incredulously. "Merlin. Is there any reason for this untimely interruption?"

Merlin was staring at them in shock. His eyes were impossibly wide and blue. His jaw mouth open in a perfect imitation of a stunned guppy. It took him a few seconds to regain the use of his jaw.

"Sorry," he said, weakly, "I didn't expect…"

"_What _do you want, Merlin?" Arthur sighed. He seemed unaffected by the whole predicament, unlike his poor manservant who didn't know where to look. Ellie too, seemed slightly uncomfortable; she was clutching the duvet to her breast and could feel the colour rising in her cheeks.

"Well, I was looking for you but I couldn't find you so I came to find Ellie to ask if she'd seen you and….obviously," he gestured at them both, "She has." The way Merlin blushed was very amusing as two red spots appeared on his cheekbones but nowhere else. It made Arthur want to laugh.

"And why did you want to find me?"

"Because…because….oh yes, Nick met someone at the function last night and he got talking and realised they had some information concerning the crystal that I lost – the one we need to get home. This man said that he had seen it in some shop in Bristol. So Nick has gone into Bristol already to see if he can get the crystal before someone else buys it."

"Right," Arthur nodded, "And you needed to tell me in such a rush because?"

A frown appeared on Merlin's face. "Well, I thought you _might _just be interested considering its how we're going to get back home."

"You could have waited until I was up, couldn't you?"

"I guess." The young man paused. "Actually, there was something else I needed to tell you….what was it? Oh, yeah, some of the others are going on a hunt and they wondered if you wanted to come along. I told them how keen you were."

Arthur's eyes lit up. "Hunting?"

Ellie hit his arm. "You need to sort out your priorities. When you get more excited about hunting than about going home then you know there's something wrong?" She raised an eyebrow. Arthur had the grace to look sheepish. In an effort to squirm his way out of the situation, he turned to his manservant.

"Merlin, go fetch my clothes and then saddle my horse for the hunt. See if you can find me a sword too. My one was confiscated."

Ellie stared at him, her facial expression amused.

"Arthur," Ellie said, slowly, like talking to a small child, "We don't use swords or crossbows or anything like that to go hunting."

Arthur looked perplexed. "What do you use then? Your bare hands?"

"No, _guns_."

"That sounds ominous," Merlin stated, looking worried.

"Its fine, they're perfectly safe, as long as you point them away from people, that is." She grinned.

**Sorry if you thought the Arthur and Ellie bit was a bit quick. I was going BBC on you and throwing them straight into the relationship without the subtlties. Thats cos I want to finish this fic so I can start a new one that is forming in my head. Nearing the finish line now.!**


	23. Hunting Trip

**Author's Note - Thanks to MagicByMerlin, GhibliGirl91, uneatenbonbon13, Isis the Sphinx, Becca1938, Crown-Daydreamer, XxBlueSkiesxX, writing-at-random, laurajslr, Mini Librarian and MegElemental. **

**About Future Fics: **

**Well, I'm pretty proud of the fic ideas I have come up with. Firstly, I wanted to explore Merlin's childhood but I wanted Arthur to be there too. Hmm…how was I supposed to go about doing that? Send him back in time of course! Though not in the same way as this. You see, the title will be **_**Merlin: A Christmas Carol**_**. Not quite in the season yet but I can be early! Should be good and I'm excited about writing it. Arthur seeing Merlin in past present and future. Whoop!**

**Another, more vague idea, is one I haven't fully developed and yet have the introduction already complete. It will probably be a Merlin/Arthur bromance with angst and love and all that jazz. I think it will include Merlin-bashing (as MBM so fondly calls it) as I prefer it that way round. With Arthur worrying about his servant. :D**

**Yeah, they're the fic ideas. The Christmas Carol one will probably come first. No one copy it! Please and thank you!**

**By the way: **

**I seemed to be having an animal theme in this chapter so I'm sorry.**

The horse shifted slightly beneath his rider in order to get more comfortable, he tossed his head in anticipation, dark, marble eyes bright with excitement. Around him, several other steeds were waiting in the stable yard, waiting for a chance to stretch their legs and burn some energy. Being cooped up in a stall was no fun, even in such luxurious ones as they had the pleasure to be bed in. The straw could be itchy and the atmosphere dim, dusty and claustrophobic. Everyday, the animals were desperate to be free, to go on a ride or be turned out into the field.

Muscle and sinew strained in the horse's back, ready to be released like a tightly coiled spring.

Mounted on his back, sat a tall man, his blond hair swept back from his forehead by the wind which had picked up in this early morning setting. His light blue eyes were focussed on the people around him as they too clambered onto their horses with practiced ease. There was no need for him to pay attention to the restless beast beneath him; he naturally kept him in check with a shift in weight or a firm hand on his arched neck.

Looking interestedly, he saw Ellie gracefully mount her grey mare and pat her gently at as she sat calmly atop it. Merlin was doing the same just a few metres away though with considerably less elegance. Although Merlin _was _a skilled horseman, he could not complete a single task without one of his limbs getting in his way and hindering his attempts. Once he was on the animal, all would be fine, but the process of climbing into the saddle was an arduous one.

Finally, he too was mounted safely.

Pippa was leading the hunt; she seemed to have a group of her hunting friends with her who looked eager to go. The idea was, from what Arthur could gather, was that they would complete a reasonably long ride down to the forest which lay on the Collingridge's hundreds of acres of land and they would stop for a break before setting out on foot. At this point the real hunting would begin but not how the prince was used to. In this case, they would be using guns. Ellie had briefly demonstrated how these worked at the house when they had collected them from the gunroom but Arthur still couldn't see how one little metal pellet could kill a fully grown animal. You needed a spear for that, or an arrow. They had more effect.

Gradually, the group began to move off and Arthur urged his horse into action, its dark head rose sharply from the ground where it had been picking at shoots of grass and it began to trot casually forward. Finally, the young man felt in control of his surroundings. It had been a long time since he'd felt like that; in this foreign world everything had been unpredictable and unbalanced. Now, he knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.

As the all trotted along the well trodden path which led down to the woods, Arthur watched Ellie. She was a good rider, he could tell that much. He wondered how she had learnt, considering she lived in London where cars seemed to be the only mode of transport. His best guess was that she had learnt out here, in the countryside, when she was a youngster. He imagined her and Pippa trekking out for whole days out on their horses, packing a picnic and having a really fun time. Life was like that when you were young and carefree; you could do what you wanted. Now, as an adult, he knew he should have valued that free time, that leisure time, much more. He just took it for granted.

Arthur continued watching the girl, watching the gentle sway of her body and the blissful expression on her face. She obviously enjoyed what she was doing. He pondered whether she would enjoy always travelling like that, would she cope without a car or a bus to take her places? He could imagine that she would. Ellie seemed like the kind of person that could turn her hand to anything and be good at it. Would she cope with living in his time?

Fiercely, he shook his head; he couldn't even believe he was considering that, he couldn't take the young woman home with him. She belonged here, in this time. But oh, what he wouldn't give to do so. Briefly, he thought about how Father would react should he bring her back and declare that he wanted to marry her. Most likely….not well. She would be an asset though, what with her medical skills and such, she would make a brilliant Queen, he didn't doubt that. It wasn't possible though. He shouldn't get his hopes up.

"Why do you have the look of a constipated frog on your face?"

Merlin appeared in his line of vision, casually riding his chestnut horse with very little guidance on his part. Animals tended to do what the young man wanted; he was strange in that respect, as if he had a natural affinity with the environment.

"And you would know what a constipated frog looks like, would you?"

"I would say something like the face you just pulled," Merlin retorted, smartly, "Or was that your thinking expression? I get confused."

"Everything confuses _you_, Merlin," Arthur stated, pulling slightly on his reins in order to fall into step with the manservant.

Merlin grinned, unaffected (as always) and shrugged. "Perhaps, I pretend that everything confuses me. Maybe, I pretend to be ignorant."

Arthur snorted. "That's what you keep telling yourself." He shook his head and looked amusedly at his friend.

"_Anyway_," the raven haired youth suddenly smiled, evilly, "What's going on with you and Ellie then?" He jerked his head in the direction of the woman who was currently in a conversation with Pippa. They were laughing and seemed to be getting on well still.

Arthur didn't know whether Ellie had told her best friend about last night or not. Maybe that was why. "Not that it's any of your business," he looked pointedly at Merlin who shrugged, "But we are kind of together."

"You know," his friend said with an ironic chuckle, "I would _never _have guessed that. I mean, I didn't walk in on you this morning in her bed, both naked. Which, by the way, will be burned onto my mind for the rest of eternity, I think."

"At least you'll have something nice to take to your deathbed then."

"Nice?" Merlin quirked an eyebrow, "I think I would go more along the lines of 'disgusting' but I guess it's a matter of opinion."

"Yes, Merlin, and I am of the opinion that you should shut up or I'll knock you off your horse."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Is that a challenge?" Arthur exclaimed, his eyes narrowing, as Merlin let out a frightened yelp and began to spur his horse into a canter. He was a blur as he passed the riders up ahead; his master hot on his tail.

* * *

A red squirrel scurried along the rough bark of a tree, twisting its way around the thick trunk as its tiny paws carried further and further away from the ground. Beady eyes darted back and forth, looking out for danger, whatever form it should come in. As it reached a branch that protruded from the main column of the tree, the little creature averted its course, scampering along the length of the limb until it reached the end. Pausing for a moment, its tufted ears pricked, listening, the squirrel turned its head; down below, it spotted a group of people standing close together. They were dressed in a variety of dark clothes and in their hands they held the long black instruments that the wild animal associated with the claps of thunder that ricocheted every so often through the wood.

Not wanting to hang around, the squirrel elected to hurry back to its nest as quickly as possible. It didn't like being around when the banging started, not when it also had to hear the screams of pain that swiftly followed. They were the sounds of death.

Bunching its small legs beneath it, the animal skittered along the last part of the flimsy branch, feeling the wood flex beneath it before launching itself into the air. With barely any audible sound, the squirrel landed on the next tree and continued its journey.

The oak trees remained silent except for the occasional wail of a clutch of baby birds that would issue from the depths of the thick foliage or the quiet squeak of a field mouse that had sough refuge in the roots of the majestic plant. Sometimes, the trees would sway slightly in the wind which whistled through the forest but the weather had very little effect on them; they were so well anchored. They wouldn't even budge with the power of the upcoming storm that was signalling its arrival. Pitch black clouds roiled in the grey sky and a faint sound of rumbling thunder could be heard in the distance.

"Cor," Ellie sighed, "And there I was thinking that it was going to be a nice day. I'm not dressed for a storm." She was staring, annoyed, up at the heavens. Those clouds were bound to burst at any moment, drenching everyone. Looking back down at her flimsy, checked shirt and jodhpurs, she made a face and tucked a loose strand of hair back beneath her woolly hat. That was the only item of clothing that would keep her warm. She was going to wear a scarf but was worried it would fall off or get tangled in the reins if they went racing. Usually, she wore a helmet but as Arthur and Merlin hadn't been wearing them, she had chosen not to; that and it would have given her the dreaded 'hat-hair.'

"You can borrow my jacket," Merlin said, immediately, gesturing to his brown item of clothing.

Ellie smiled, gratefully. "That's a very kind offer, Merlin, but I couldn't possibly. I'll be fine."

As she turned back to check that she'd tethered her horse appropriately to a tree, Arthur shot a filthy look at his manservant. How dare he show him up like that? He was the one who was supposed to be looking after Ellie, not him. Why did he have to be so damn thoughtful?

"Hey, guys, I've found the tracks of one of the deer," Pippa called to them, she was crouched on the currently dry ground, it wouldn't be long before it was sodden and treacherous.

"Great!" One of the young men with her clapped his hands together before removing his shotgun from its carrying bag, which had been slung over his shoulder. He began loading it. Arthur watched with interest.

"Oliver," Ellie frowned, "There is no point loading it now. I mean, we don't know how far away this deer is. Surely, it would be safer to wait until it's in sight?"

"Aw, El, we're experienced enough. What's the harm?"

"Well, some idiot…" She jumped forward, grabbing Arthur back from where he'd been peering curiously at the barrel of the gun with seemingly know qualms at all about the fact he had his face at the dangerous end of a weapon. "Could wander in front of you, like _that_."

Arthur looked offended at being called an idiot. That was usually an insult reserved for Merlin. He was the prat, after all. However, Ellie seemed nonplussed; she was probably more preoccupied in arguing her point. She still didn't look happy when they set out a couple of minutes later and Oliver still hadn't unloaded his gun. Everyone else didn't seem to care though. Even though, the prince wanted to say something to cheer her up, he didn't really know what to say. To be honest, _he _couldn't see what was so dangerous about this 'loaded' gun; there was no need for her to get so worked up about it.

Irritatingly, however, Merlin was walking beside her and he was talking quietly to her, that infuriatingly, charming smile on his face. His eyes twinkled with kindness as he spoke to her. She was chuckling too, staring at him like he was the funniest thing on two legs.

Damn! Arthur really needed to get control of this ugly green monster in him. He _knew _that Merlin would never intentionally try and 'steal' a girl from him. The young manservant wouldn't even know how to go about it! Arthur needed to stop being so jealous and be glad that his friend could fill in in the areas he lacked; like cheering people up and being generally friendly and lovable.

"I've had a phone call," Pippa suddenly appeared by his side. He jumped. Not quite sure whether he was allowed to be in such close proximity of the girl without Ellie's consent. Then he shook himself. He didn't need her consent; he could talk to whom he pleased. She wasn't looking though. That was good.

"Oh?" He wasn't sure what the woman meant.

"Its Nick, he wanted to talk to you, Merlin or Ellie. Seeing as the others are otherwise engaged, it's down to you." She handed him the object that Arthur recognised as a 'mobile phone' from Ellie had called it. He remembered the strange messages she'd received on it and the way she spoke into it as if she were talking to someone standing next to her. "Aren't you going to answer it?" Pippa looked at him with an amused expression on her face.

"Right, yes, I'll….er….just go over here." He nodded and turned on the spot, before striding off to a safe distance. Now what?

Tentatively, he held the device up to his ear.

A voice exploded from inside it. "Hello?!" Arthur jumped about a foot and nearly dropped the box. Recovering, he held it back up.

"Hello?"

"Arthur! Is that you? I've got it. I can't believe it. It was just sitting there in this shop. He only wanted ten quid for it. It's sitting here, in _my _hand."

"That's….good?"

"It's brilliant. Merlin will be ecstatic, can you put him on? Then I can ask him what to do with it."

Although Arthur was a bit miffed that Nick would rather ask his manservant for instructions rather than him, the Prince of Camelot, he understood that Merlin knew about more stuff than he did. To be honest, he wasn't sure how but it was probably a good thing.

"Oi, Merlin, Nick on this _thing _for you."

"Oh, right, thanks." Merlin hurried over and much to Arthur's amazement, he took the phone and held it right to his ear, as if he'd done it hundreds of times before. Sometimes, the blond man couldn't help but think that his companion fitted in here much better than he did. Much better than he _ever _could; Arthur was too set in his ways. The peasant boy seemed more open to change.

"Hi, Nick….oh, that's fantastic…..do you want me to pay you back…..I could find some money…..all right, if you insist……so you'll bring it back here?.....we're in the wood……you don't have to meet us……well, all right……see you in a bit……bye."

Merlin clicked the phone off and handed it back to Pippa who had returned just at that moment. Her blonde hair was swept into a bun on the back of her head but several strands had fallen out and were framing her face with soft waves. There was a red tinge to her cheeks from the chill.

Her eyes were bright as she asked. "Did you hear the thunder just a moment ago? Sooo loud! We're going to get drenched. The storm is going to come right over head. I didn't even know there _was _going to be a storm today. The forecast was overcast but not to this extent. Shows how much you can trust the BBC weather report." She smirked.

"I don't like storms," Ellie stated, her expression unreadable.

"Since when?" Pippa looked honestly confused.

"Since, _you know_," Ellie replied.

"Oh, its fine, Ellie. That will _never _happen again."

"You don't know that."

Arthur and Merlin frowned. Bewildered.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur queried.

Ellie shot her friend a quelling look before she could open her mouth. Slowly, Pippa pursed her lips and looked questioningly the other girl. She noticed that her cheeks were already paling and her eyes had gone watery. Having not seen her childhood friend in so long, she hadn't realised how much that incident still affected her. Still, out of loyalty, Pippa said nothing, even when Arthur continued to pester.

* * *

The roe deer picked at the succulent berries hidden between the thorny limbs of a plant; its velvety lips nimbly avoided the spines with practiced ease. Even as it ate, its ears were pert and ready, listening for any noise – a crack of a twig or a rustle of leaves – that would indicate danger. Once it heard a single sound then it would run like the wind, vanishing into the dense woodland with its little white tail flashing behind it.

Huge, dark eyes stared up at it. Buried in the heather beneath her feet, was a tiny baby deer – a fawn. It was brighter in colour than its mother, chestnut rather than sandy, with white speckles littering its back. His head was knobbly with the stumps of horns that were yet to grow and his spindly legs were bended beneath him, ready to leap into action should the situation call for it. Attention on his dam never faltered; if he lost concentration then it could mean the death of him.

_Crack_.

She certainly heard that. Head snapping round in horror, her nose immediately caught a whiff of the predator and she sprung away. The fawn too, leapt from its nest and hurried desperately after her. He almost tripped over in his haste. That stumble could prove costly.

They both gathered speed as they charged across the uneven turf, hooves skittering in loose piles of leaves and snapping dead bracken which had previously been trampled underfoot. The baby was a couple of metres behind his mother; his legs weren't fast enough to match pace with her. All he could hope was to follow her and attempt to keep up.

_Bang. _

The sound was deafening. Both animals flinched at the noise but neither was harmed in the initial gun-blast. Unfortunately, there were many more shots yet to be fired; they flew through the previously quiet air like deadly missiles. Sooner or later one would find its target.

The baby let out a frightened squeak as one bullet whistled passed its ear, catching the soft skin slightly and tearing it. There was no way he could stop though. He had to press on. If he lost sight of his mother then he was as good as dead.

_Bang._

_Boom._

The second sound was different from the first and both deer recognised it as thunder. The monstrous rumble that came from the sky every now and again. With it came the rain; torrential rain. Lightning flashed haphazardly across the black clouds and the fawn skidded, uncertainly, not sure which way to go, his vision having been impaired by the glimmering streak.

_Boom. _

_Bang. _

A cacophony of noises. The doe was used to them, could deal with the fear. Her baby, however, was not. He panicked, darting this way and that. Eyes rolling in his head as he screamed out for his mother. She wouldn't see him again though.

Shuddering to a halt, the female deer began to back up in horror, seeing the two men standing in front of her with the black muzzles of their guns facing her. She was looking into the two hollow eyes of death himself; empty and unforgiving and souless. Then she knew no more.

* * *

Arthur and Merlin and Ellie were lost. They had been separated from the rest of the group because they had hurried off in pursuit of a stag that Oliver had said he'd seen down by the brook. Arthur reckoned that he'd spotted the grooves of a rutting deer in a nearby tree and they were relatively fresh, judging by the greenness of the ruined flesh. Therefore the band of hunters had split.

And they were lost and it was raining.

Huge great splodges of rain fell from the sky and landed on Merlin's upturned face as he looked at the bloated, blackened clouds. His raven hair was plastered to his scalp and his clothes were clinging to his skinny frame. In his mouth, his teeth chattered vigorously.

"I knew we shouldn't have left the others," he scowled, looking at Arthur as if it was his fault. Which it was.

"I thought....."

"You thought that you knew best," Merlin cut in, "As usual. Just because you like showing off."

"I did know best."

"_No _you didn't."

"Yes, look." Arthur pointed at a pair of scuffed cloven hoof marks in the sodden earth. "See, I was right."

"To be honest," Ellie interrupted, "I don't really care about hunting anymore, can we go back?"

"They can't be far away." Arthur looked at her imploringly. "Please?"

Ellie caved. "Fine."

The trio headed on through the thickening mud, it was so wet now that it was like walking in slurry. Every foot had to be placed carefully for fear of falling over and twisting an ankle or worse. Once or twice, Merlin, being the most uncoordinated, nearly toppled face first into the dirt. Fortunately, Arthur was there to grab him by the scruff of the neck and pull him upright. Soon though, he too would be losing his usually unflappable balance.

Passing a rather huge elm tree, the prince suddenly spotted something through the bracken; it was brown and looked suspiciously furry. Could he have finally found the deer? Excited, he wondered what he could do to kill it. Ellie didn't look that inclined to lend him her gun; she still feared that somehow, even though he was a skilled warrior, he would turn it on himself. Unlikely, to say the least. 'But plausible,' Ellie had retorted.

Creeping, excitedly, forwards, the young man peered through a hole in the dense foliage and frowned at the sight that met his eyes. Lying on the floor, in a puddle of her own blood, was the corpse of a doe. Her glassy eyes stared into his as if asking him, what have I done to deserve this? He felt strangely sick. It was one thing to kill a wild animal; it was another to just leave its carcass in the middle of a forest. That was a completely pointless death. Merlin and the unicorns had taught him that you shouldn't just kill because you could.

Once he reached the dead deer, he nudged it gently with his boot. Not long dead, rigor mortis hadn't even had time to set in. But where was its killer?

"What killed it?" Merlin asked, as he too approached the body. His expression was one of sadness. Merlin hated death. Arthur had learnt that much.

Ellie had arrived too. "Shotgun, see the spray of wounds. That's the debris of the pellet from when it hit the skin."

"_This _is what a gun can do?" Arthur sounded stunned.

"Yes, Arthur," Ellie nodded, gravelly, realising the reality of the weapon had only just set in on the prince. "But this wasn't done by one of our guys. We all have rifles."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we have poachers and if they've left the carcass here then they're likely to come back."

"Or they could already be back," Merlin murmured, looking around him.

**Whoop for cheesy cliffhangers. I have used that one too numerous times to count. Must revise for Chemistry. Crap. Review. **


	24. Leaving

**Author's Note - Okay, this chapter is going to be nothing like any of you imagined. Its the way I was planning to play it for ages so sorry for not following some of your advice. This scene has been a long time coming. I felt it was the only way things would work out, otherwise things would get way, way too complicated. I'd say this is either the penultimate chapter or the one before the penultimate. **

**Um...yeah, its a pretty dramatic, serious chapter compared to the last so I'm sorry about that, if you don't like it. **

**Thank you for the lovely reviews! That's thanks to: MagicByMerlin, polissak, Crown-Daydreamer, bcargill9, ORION, helva2260, debookworm01, DotCom-WDB., Isis the Sphinx, writing-at-random, uneatenbonbon13, XxBlueSkiesxX, almightyswot, Mini Librarian, laurajslr, Lyra V. Ellison, GhibliGirl91 and MegElemental. **

* * *

They had shot Arthur.

Merlin wasn't sure why, it had all happened much too quickly. Too quickly for him to even contemplate saving the prince by using magic. He remembered Ellie shouting at them, accusing them of poaching and he remembered them calling her nasty things, leering. Arthur had been angry; he had approached a man, ignorant of the gun in his jacket.

Merlin recalled, with vivid clarity, the deafening bang of the shot, the look of surprise on Arthur's face, the way his body arced like the curve of a bow as he fell; the grace with which he fell. He also remembered the scream that had been torn from Ellie's lips; the cry from his own. Even from a distance, he had seen the crimson flower of blood blossoming on his chest, seeping through his damp white shirt. What did Gaius always say? Water increased the speed at which a person bled.

Tears streaming down her face, mingling with the rain already shining there, Ellie had charged forward, her medical instincts kicking in as she rushed to his aid. That man had stopped her though, his cool blue eyes gleaming with malice. He pointed the terrifying butt of his sawn-off shotgun right in her face. The harsh metal was so close to her that it almost touched her soft, vulnerable flesh. Merlin willed her to think clearly; to back off.

For a moment, he hadn't been sure that she would but fortunately, she seemed to see sense and froze, looking up at Arthur's harmer with ferocious, brown eyes; they danced with fire and fury. It was in that moment that Merlin really saw how much the girl cared for his master.

Surprisingly, it was as the gun barrel was turned on him that he realised that he too was at Arthur's side. Instinctively, he had leapt to his friend's side, without even thinking. He was so close that he could smell the tang of fresh blood in the air; it sickened him to his stomach. Arthur's face was blank and pale and so lifeless that Merlin thought he could have been dead. He wasn't – not yet.

Looking up, seeing the man's merciless glare, the warlock realised it was their intent to kill them there and then. Even if he and Ellie complied with their will then they would still be disposed of. Obviously, he could not allow that. That's why he had summoned all the anger and anguish in his body and channelled it into his magic. Abruptly, before the poachers could do anymore damage, they were thrown off their feet, the guns ripped out of their hands.

Ellie had stared at him with astonishment - and fear, he supposed it was justified but it still stung. All he ever used his magic for was to save lives. How could people not see that? Before she could say anything, however, he had hauled Arthur over his shoulder, baulking under the weight. He could have sworn his shoulder felt like it was about to break. Grunting with effort and the pain of supporting his master, Merlin began to move, determined to put as much distance between him and the poachers as possible, before they came round.

And so that's how Merlin found himself here, in this current predicament: with Ellie desperately trying to save Arthur's life as his blood seeped slowly from his body and into the earth from which it had come, as they sat under the umbrella of a willow tree in order to avoid the majority of the pounding rain. The young prince was yet to regain consciousness and Merlin was worried that he never would. He was so damn pale. A ghost of his former self. The manservant was reminded horribly of the incident with the Questing Beast, however, this time there was no Isle of the Blessed to visit and trade his own life. All he had was Ellie's expertise.

By now, the young woman's tears had dried on her cheeks, leaving salty snail trails on her skin. Her hair was matted and wet as it hung in thick tendrils around her face. Her eyes were hard with grim determination. She was doing everything she could with what she had to make sure that the young man in her hands didn't die. It was an almost impossible task.

"Please, please, please…." she muttered to herself. Merlin watched, helpless.

After a time, Ellie had managed to stem the bleeding, to an extent. The wound was not clean, there was nothing she could do about that but at least her makeshift bandage was staunching the flow somewhat. What they needed to do now was to get to a hospital. How they were meant to do that with those lunatics roaming the forest was an idea that eluded her. Even if Merlin could hold them off with his magic, how were they supposed to move _fast _enough to get to a medical facility? She had no idea where the horses were and even if they, by some miracle, got to them; it would still be too slow. They needed an air ambulance or something to that effect but she had no means of contacting them. It was a hopeless situation.

A fresh wave of tears threatened to fall. Fighting them back, angrily, she looked at Merlin and saw his face was pale and anxious. His ocean blue eyes were dark with worry and he chewed his lip, continuously.

"Merlin…." she began, gulping, "I don't know what to do."

He stared at her, shaking his head. "You need to…"

"I can't do anything more, Merlin, not without proper equipment, medicine!" Her voice was horribly hysterical now and she hated it. She was supposed to be a professional.

"Can I do…?" he tailed off again. There wasn't much he _could _do. He had yet to perfect any medical, healing spells and he couldn't magic Arthur to a hospital. In other words, he was useless. Nothing like the future Merlin who had written those spells in that book – he would know, why couldn't he be him?

Ellie took a deep, shuddering breath.

Suddenly, there was a noise outside and they both froze, hearts beating frantically against ribs. Had they been found? Merlin was tense that his whole body hurt. He felt the magic flow through his veins like the blood that was already pulsing there, ready to be used as soon as it was needed. Fight or flight. He would definitely fight. There was no choice in his mind but to protect Ellie and the injured prince. They were his priority, not himself, never.

The curtain of willow leaves was pulled back. Merlin's eyes melted into gold, a multitude of spells entered his head. But he didn't need them because it was not the poachers who had found them, it was Nick.

"How?" Ellie breathed, her eyes wide with shock.

"How did I find you? With great difficulty, why on earth are you holed up in here? We need to go, there are poachers in the forest, they're really dangerous ones-" Nick stopped abruptly when he saw the prone form of Arthur on the ground, his head cushioned on a pillow of leaves that Ellie had fashioned. "What happened?"

He skidded to his knees. Immediately jumping into doctor mode, just like Ellie had earlier.

"The poachers shot him," Merlin said. "Ellie's done all she can."

Nick was inspecting Arthur, checking his pulse, his breathing, the bandages. "What kind of gun?"

"Shotgun."

"Better that some, I suppose. Less deep."

"That doesn't matter, it's the amount of blood he's lost from all the wounds," Ellie replied.

"I know. Damn. If I'd know, there's a medical kit in my car. It's just outside the woods but with the poachers loose, I don't think we can risk it. I can phone the air ambulance!" Nick started as the solution came to him.

Ellie looked forlorn. "It might be too late."

"We can try," Nick said, looking grave. He dialled and explained the situation. Once that was done, there wasn't much they could do.

Suddenly, the older man blurted out: "I came to find you because I had the crystal. Look." He revealed the shining apple sized gem from inside his coat pocket. Merlin stared at it. Astounded. It was exactly how he remembered.

"Can I?" He held out a hand for it. Nick passed it over.

Gazing at the rock in his hand, Merlin was struck by a sudden feeling, the same feeling he'd had in the cave all those days ago. His heart jumped erratically in his chest. Blinking slowly, he found strangely familiar images flickering in his mind: the castle, looking so real it could almost be in front of him; Gaius' chambers, the mess in his bedroom; Gwen and Morgana. So vibrant were these images that Merlin almost felt he was there, that he was home.

That's when he realised. They needed to go back now. Now was the only time. It was like a window had been opened for only a certain period. If they didn't leap through it now then they would be stuck forever. Somehow, Merlin knew all this in his mind, like some ancient knowledge had awakened inside of him.

This hadn't been something he had foreseen in all his planning. He had assumed they would have time to sort things out, to say goodbye. This was all so sudden. And at completely the wrong time, what with Arthur in the state he was in. But you couldn't argue with the Fates. He knew that better than anyone.

"We have to go," he stated, simply.

Nick frowned. "Go? Go where? We need to wait for the air ambulance."

"We need to go home, back to where we came from: Camelot."

"Arthur needs medical attention." Ellie looked worried. She recognised the gravity of Merlin's expression.

"It has to be now. We need to go back. I can't explain it, I just _know_. If we don't go now then we'll never get back."

"But Arthur won't survive if he doesn't get modern medical assistance," Nick reasoned, his dark eyebrows furrowing.

Merlin shook his head. "I'm sure you've done enough. It will sort itself out. We survive. I know we do."

"_How_? Merlin, you can't be serious!" Nick was shouting now, his hand gripping Arthur's arm.

Instead of trying to reason with the man, the warlock turned his attention to Ellie. She looked dumbstruck, her eyes round and unsure, her mouth twisted in fear. Her gaze came to rest on the wounded Arthur and a single tear ran down her cheek.

"You can come with us," Merlin said, quietly, "If you want."

Silence. Ellie didn't say or do anything; she continued to stare at Arthur with his pallid cheeks and eyes creased in pain. She gently brushed some hair off his sweaty forehead. She remembered what he said last night. Last night, he had said that if anything happened, then he didn't want to go not having admitted his feelings and been with her. Well he had done that. And now he _was _going. As if he had planned it all.

Slowly, she shook her head. There was no way she could go. "No," she whispered, "I can't."

Merlin smiled, weakly, in an attempt to comfort her. "He'll be fine. We'll be fine. I promise I will try and get a message to you. All right?"

"Right."

"This is goodbye then." The manservant looked extremely sad.

Ellie leaned forwards and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then she bent over Arthur's unconscious body and kissed him too. "Bye."

Offering the girl one last trademark grin, Merlin summoned his magic so it flowed out of every single pore in his body and he uttered the words he had so recently memorised. "_Tempus surgi_". His eyes glowed golden.

The pair vanished.

And now the tears fell in earnest, great sobs that wracked Ellie's slender body. Her face was hot and her head felt like it was about to explode with the weight of everything that had just happened. They were gone. Just like that. Never to return. She could have gone with them, could have lived the rest of her life in Camelot but she was too much of a coward. If she had been brave – if she had been Pippa – she would have gone without a moment's thought. As it was, she was Ellie and therefore she remained.

Nick put his arm round her, comforting her with his mere presence. She could smell the dampness of his clothes and feel the water seeping from his jacket onto her but she didn't care. He was someone who cared for her and she would burrow into him like a baby into its mother's breast. Not that she was calling Nick a woman or insinuating he had breasts.

"They're gone," she whispered.

"They didn't belong here," he replied, gently, "You have to understand that, El."

"I do…." she hiccoughed, "I do."

As she clung to the young man, she noticed something hidden on the far side of the willow's trunk, camouflaged by a pile of russet leaves. Its spots gave it away, that and the two, wide shiny eyes that stared at her with such hope that she felt her heart melt. The creature was a tiny, little fawn with spindly legs and a knobbly head.

**Okay, so that last bit was for the Bambi lovers out there. I didn't really think about saving the fawn, the suggestion was that he'd died but I suppose, as I didnt _actually _kill him, then I could bring him back for a quick 'hi'. There ya go! **


	25. Fixing Arthur

**Author's Note - Whoop! Uber-long chapter. Still a bit sad. **

**Um....Merlin was awesome tonight. The Merlin/Arthur banter was on top form in my opinion. Merlin is so adorable! One of my favourite bits was when Arthur shoved the berries in his face though, that seemed like such a best friend thing to do. :) Annoyed though, when Arthur said 'I care about her more than anyone' and I was thinking no you don't. That's Merlin you're thinking of, you wally. I think Merlin was thinking the same thing, to be honest, judging by his facial expression. Lancelot and Gwen do seem so much more natural than Gwen and Arthur. **

**Saw Michaeal McIntyre, for any of you who have heard of him, he is soooo awesome. Went to his live show and loved it! **

**Anyhoo, thanks to: MagicByMerlin, writing-at-random, MegElemental, bcargill9, debookworm01, Mini Librarian, Becca1938, almightyswot, XxBlueSkiesxX, laurajslr, Isis the Sphinx and GhibliGirl91.**

**Not last chapter. One more after this and then that's your lot! :D**

They had appeared. Not in the place they had left, thankfully, but in a deserted side street of a town. At this moment in time, Merlin sure which town but it wasn't really a priority to find that out right now. What he was concerned with was the deathly pale prince who lay at his feet. A thin layer of sweat coated the wounded young man's brow and blood was still seeping slowly through the bandages that Ellie had wrapped round his chest not that long ago. He needed treatment; immediately.

And how was he supposed to get the prince to the castle? He couldn't carry him; he couldn't steal a horse; it seemed to be fairly late at night so, to be honest, he didn't have many options open to him. That is, unless he used magic. He had gotten away with using it once already, with the prince unconscious, who said that he couldn't do it twice? If there was no one up to help him then there was no one up to witness the crime he was about to commit.

Taking a deep breath, the warlock's eyes shimmered and turned gold, levitating the still body of Arthur off the floor. He tried to make the prince as comfortable as possible, supporting his head with an extra bit of magic and making sure his arms and legs didn't drag on the ground. To any onlooker, he looked like he was sleeping and yet someone had stolen his bed from right out beneath him – pillow and all.

And now, Merlin ran.

He charged through the winding streets: skipping passed barrels standing in the street, jumping over drunken revellers passed out on the floor, scattering a flock of chickens that were searching about for a place to roost. They squawked awfully loudly and he was worried that they may wake the occupants of a nearby house. Fortunately, that did not happen and the manservant could continue his crazy dash without being accosted.

It was as he turned into a street, which was wider than all the rest he'd been in, that he realised exactly where he was. He was on the main road that led up to the gates of the castle itself. Help wasn't far away. Relief flooded through Merlin's veins like a soothing potion, calming his frantically beating heart. This relief was short lived, however, as he heard a groan from above his head. Oh damn, Arthur was waking up.

"Merlin?" Woozily eyes stared down at the manservant, swimming with confusion. "Merlin, why am I….floating?"

"You're dreaming, my lord, you are not floating. It's a dream." Merlin spoke calmly, trying to coax the young man back into unconsciousness. As much as he wanted the prince and come round – he was ecstatic already to have him speak – now was _really _not the best time.

"Oh, all right," Arthur nodded, like a gullible child and closed his eyes, "G'night."

The castle's gates, tall and imposing, were climbing into view. Merlin realised that he couldn't just walk up with a levitating man above his head; the guards would surely stop and even kill him. No, he needed to bring Arthur back to earth, and quickly. Seamlessly, his tawny eyes glided once more back into ocean blue. He sighed as his friend lay on the ground. _Now _would be a good time to wake up….no such luck.

"Oi! You there. What you doing?" The gruff voice of one of the guards on duty called. He was slowly rising to his feet from a small, wooden stall. His chain mail chinked, noisily in the quiet night.

"I'm Merlin!" he shouted back, grabbing Arthur and dragging him, with difficulty, over his shoulder again. Usually, this happened the other way round; the difference being that Arthur was strong and Merlin was weak and that Merlin was light and Arthur was bloody heavy!

"Merlin?" They seemed to confer for a moment, their voices sounding excited, "As in the Prince's manservant, Merlin?"

Ah, his reputation preceded him. How nice.

"Yes, that's me. I have Prince Arthur here. He's wounded. Can you help me take him to the castle physician?"

The two men were at his side in an instant; they hauled the dead weight of Arthur off the manservant's shoulder and carried him between them, hurrying inside. Merlin went ahead, opening doors until they had reached Gaius' chambers. They looked so familiar and the young warlock was eternally grateful to be home and in a place he knew.

"Where shall we put him?" One guard asked.

"Here will do." Merlin gestured to the patient's bed.

With a grunt, they placed him down and then they looked at one another. "We had better inform the King that his son has returned. He has been searching for him for days; scouring the kingdom. Thought he'd been kidnapped or worse, murdered, and the body hidden. Where have you been?"

"I can't explain it to you," Merlin replied, as if the answer was too above their level of understanding. He brushed them off, tending to the Prince by stripping off his shirt and looking at his wound again. The bandage was drenched in fresh, crimson blood.

"Fine," the guard looked offended, "We'll go get his highness then." With that, they marched off.

Gaius appeared moments later, his eyes bleary and his hair looking even more peculiar than it usually did, sticking up all over the place. He froze when he saw Merlin, blinking several times as if he could not believe what he was seeing. The old man was still dressed in his night gown.

"_Merlin_?" he finally exclaimed, "Where on _earth _have you been?"

"No time to explain, Gaius," Merlin said, "You need to help Arthur."

"Oh dear, this does look bad." The physician hurried forward, his back bent, as he examined the patient. "Where are these bandages from? What caused the wound? How long ago did it happen?"

The questions came thick and fast and, frankly, the young raven-headed man was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, he was finding it difficult to process them in his brain. Gaius continued to pester him though until he managed to get a few syllables from his young nephew.

"Friends did it. Gun; he was shot. An hour, maybe." Merlin wasn't really sure. He didn't know whether there had been a time lag in their leap from one century to another. They had left in the morning and arrived here in the night. Who knew how long Arthur had technically been wounded.

"A gun? Merlin, what in heaven's name is a gun?"

"Bullet thing...penetrates his chest at high speed."

"And causes this much damage?" Gaius said, disbelief in his tone, as he peeled back the bandages to reveal the littering of pellet marks. The right side of Arthur's chest looked like a pink and red honeycomb.

"You can help him, right?" Merlin asked, suddenly, horribly aware of how despondent his mentor's tone was. It was a voice that didn't hold much hope.

Gaius placed the bandage back down on the marred flesh and turned to the boy he loved as if he were a son. There was a terrible honesty in his expression. "I'm afraid, Merlin, this wound is beyond my capabilities."

"_No_," Merlin shook his head, his icy blue eyes melting in fear. "_No_, you have to do _something_!"

"I would if I could."

Merlin stared at him at a loss for words. He felt completely and utterly crushed. There he'd been thinking that if he managed to get Arthur to Gaius in time then all would be fine. How naïve he'd been; how stupid for leaving the expertise of the doctors of the future. They had the situation under control; they were getting that 'air ambulance' thing to save the prince. Had Merlin just condemned his friend to death because he was too scared of being stuck in the twenty-first century for the rest of his life? Surely, living there would've been better than letting Arthur die?

A terrible, wretched guilt consumed the young man as he realised the consequences of his actions.

He buried his face in his hands, hands still wet and sticky from the warm blood which his master had spilt upon him. They smelt sickly sweet and metallic. Arthur couldn't die! He just couldn't, that wasn't how their fates were meant to go. It was his destiny to protect Arthur for the rest of eternity. If the prince died now then he had failed.

"Gaius!" An idea suddenly struck him out of the miserable spiral he was in. "Surely, I can use a spell, from one of your books. That must have a spell in for curing wounds."

"It does, Merlin," Gaius nodded, "But they are far too complicated, far too unpredictable for you to even fathom using."

"Well I haven't got much choice, either Arthur dies, anyway or Arthur dies because I have performed a spell wrong. That hardly matters, does it? There's a small chance he could survive."

"I don't mean just unpredictable for him; I mean unpredictable for you, Merlin. Powerful healing spells are notoriously dangerous. They can bring people back from the brink of death after all. In order to perform any potent healing spell the caster must give a little of his life energy to the receiver. It's a risky business. If the injury is fatal – such as this one - then that can take _a lot _out of you."

"It doesn't matter," Merlin replied, adamantly. "I have to save him."

"Right, we must find the spell."

It was as they were rifling through the bookshelf, casting aside huge volumes left right and centre that the King strode into the room. He was dressed in his nightclothes, similarly to Gaius, but his were must more extravagantly decorated and silky, they could pass for day garments anyway. His signature scarlet cloak billowed out behind him.

The expression on his face morphed from stern-anger to absolute terror when he saw Arthur lying prone on the bed; his face ghostly and his eyes closed. "Arthur," he breathed, aghast. He was at his son's bedside in two long strides and his already lined face was etched with concern.

"Gaius! Tell me what happened!"

"I'm afraid I hardly know myself, sire."

Immediately, Uther turned on Merlin. "You boy, tell me what happened to my son."

Merlin was not a good liar at the best of times. He had learnt from his friend Will that the best way to create a convincing lie was to not stray too far from the truth. How on earth was he meant to put that into practice now? The truth was so unbelievable and alien that he could even _base _an untruth on it. He couldn't adlib either; to spin a story tended to be beyond his capabilities. He usually left that to Arthur…

"Er….well….you see…." He frowned to himself. The Prince was right, he was a useless idiot. "We went hunting and Arthur got injured." The ending was weak, he knew that but Arthur used that excuse as often as he could, it seemed to work.

Obviously not this time, however, as Uther stared at him with a sceptical expression on his face. "You went hunting for five days?"

"It was a long hunt?" Merlin looked hopeful.

"Don't lie to me. You had better tell me what really happened or I will extract it from you by force."

Right, if there was any time to grow a brain it would be now, Merlin! He mentally berated himself. _Expand on the truth, Merlin. Weave a few fairytales. _Will's voice seeped into his head.

"We went swimming at this lake. I found a cave behind the waterfall, there was this room there. We thought it was safe but it wasn't because we were transported…._by magic_…" Uther's eyes grew wide, that certainly got his attention. Just keep on the magic theme, Merlin, he'll drink it up. "We arrived in a sorcerer's camp. He kept us in chains for days, no food or water. Split us up in fact." Never stray too far from the truth. "Both of us managed to escape but Arthur was wounded…saving me." That's it, make him into the hero. "I brought him back here. Now he's really ill and he could be…."

Merlin had been about to say the 'D' word but a quelling look from Gaius stopped him. Uther looked at him for a second, scrutinising him, trying to look for an ounce of dishonesty upon which he would pounce. Somehow, though, the manservant managed to remain po-faced.

"Was the sorcerer killed?"

"He was."

"Good." Now Uther turned to Gaius. "And my son, will he live?"

Gaius heaved a breath in, as if weighing up his options, and, with that infallible, unreadable look of his said. "We shall see. I need some time, the next few hours are vital, my lord. I need complete peace."

"And you shall have it!" Uther nodded, solemnly, taking one last look at Arthur before spinning on his heel and marching from the room.

Once he had left, the pair returned to their searching, flicking through page after yellow page. As he did so, Merlin thought about how crisp and clear the books had been at Nick and Pippa's apartment. Those one's about Harry Potter at the wizard school. He never did get a chance to ask them whether magical folk actually existed in there time. Neither, did he get to find out what incident had upset Ellie so much. It would just be another of those unanswered questions to store away with ones such as: Why hadn't he and Arthur ended up in the same place? And how did a mobile phone work? He need never know the answer to that one; anyway, it wasn't like he'd ever see a phone again.

Nor would he see a car or a television or people dressed in clean, multi-coloured clothing. That was the last time he would see a gun too, thank the lord. He didn't know how on earth those people could live in a peaceful society with those bullets that could so easily kill at the squeeze of a trigger. There was barely any skill involved, just point and fire. At close range you _couldn't _miss; unfortunately, for Arthur.

Somehow, he realised, his life was so much simpler without all those gadgets and gizmos and other unfathomable oddities. To know that the only thing you were likely to get mown down in the street was by a horse or a horse and cart was definitely a good thing.

He didn't know whether Arthur would share his views. Would he hate him for bringing him back without asking? Would he break down because he had lost Ellie? Merlin wouldn't be able to live with that; not only would it be terribly miserable but he would live with the guilt on his shoulders. They weren't that close were they? He hoped they weren't that close. Unhappily, he recalled the look in Ellie's eyes when Arthur had been shot – those feelings were deep.

Well, he was about to find out how Arthur would react because he had just found the spell. The spell that would either fix all his problems or ruin everything. He tended not to think about the consequences of a spell usually, but this was different. Lives were at stake.

"Gaius, I've got it," he stated, gravely. The enchantment looked complicated, ridiculously so and there were gruesome pictures down the edges of the weathered pages, showing how everything could go wrong. To be honest, he didn't want to see that. He doubted whether anyone about to do the spell would. Perhaps, that was the point though; you were advised against performing it.

"You have?" Gaius looked at him, that generic you're-doomed expression on his face. That wasn't helping matters either.

Merlin gulped; his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

"Here goes nothing," he smiled, weakly.

Consulting the book, he placed it on the desk next to where Arthur was lain out and sat down beside him on a small, wooden stall. Gaius really needed a new stool; he could feel the splinters sticking into his bottom. That didn't matter now, though, all that mattered was making his master better.

Carefully, he inspected where he was supposed to put his hands in order to perform the spell: one over Arthur's wound and one over where the wound would be on himself. He had to make sure that Arthur was completely unconscious and that he was in a safe place, not liable to fall, technically, he was supposed to do the same for himself but he didn't have time. There couldn't be any light in the room – it was fortunate they were doing it at night then. He would tell Gaius to blow out the candles once he was in position and had read the whole page.

Once he was in position, he read the last caption, outlined in red at the bottom of the page. _Warning: This will cause immense pain but whatever you do don't break the link._ What a cheery finish; Merlin thought, dryly. He braced himself.

The book said if he was not wholly focussed on the task whilst performing the spell then it would fail. All his emotion and energy needed to be concentrated on this one spot on Arthur's body and channelled through him to the wounded man. Would it work? Well, there was no time like the present (how ironic) to find out. Gaius blew out the light….

"_Vulne sangui repas_."

The words slipped from his tongue and then the pain began. To start with, it was just a small ache in his chest, as if he had got mild heartburn from eating too much or too fast; it was uncomfortable but bearable. However, this pain increased and increased and increased until it felt like Merlin's whole chest was on fire; a terrible, burning, searing feeling. Was this how Arthur felt when he got shot? Absolute agony. So much so that Merlin was writhing on his stool to get away from it. But he couldn't escape, it seemed endless.

It. Hurt. So. Much.

Merlin thanked the gods that it was dark because if it was light then Gaius would see the creases on his ashen face and the pain shining in his watery eyes. All he would be able to sense right now was the sound of Merlin grunting every so often in an attempt to alleviate the agony. As much as he wanted to break the touch on Arthur, as much as he knew that doing that would stop the hurt, Merlin couldn't do it. If he did he would fail.

"Please, please, please…." he murmured to himself. His hand clenched over his own chest.

The magic was moving, he could feel it flowing like the blood in his veins, coursing up his arm, through his heart and down his other arm where it reached Arthur – the man who really needed it.

Just a few more minutes. He willed himself on. Don't give up.

And then it was done, just like that. He could feel the spell die in him and he knew that therefore it must be complete. Tentatively, he cracked open the eyes which he had previously screwed up and, ignoring the searing pain in his chest that was still present, looked at his master.

Had it worked?

Gently, he lifted his hand from the young man's chest, expecting it to come away sticky and warm. It didn't. The wound had all but healed. There was no fresh blood creeping out. In fact, the injury looked old, like scars that had healed a long time ago. Merlin stared. _He _had done that. At a price, that much was certain, but he had performed magic that he had only ever dreamed of doing. He had brought Arthur back from death's door, given him a second chance.

It was only a couple of minutes later, when Gaius had relit all the candles in the room, that Arthur came round. That was strange in itself. A moment ago he had been almost gone and now he was back again, almost his old self, if a bit confused.

Sapphire blue eyes blinked open; dark eyelashes fluttering. A floppy hand found its way to a forehead to brush irritating hair away. A frown formed on dry lips and a creased brow. He focussed on the object or person closest to him. "Merlin?"

"Glad to see you're awake." The young warlock grinned, his eyes lighting up with relief. His palm unconsciously rubbed his chest. "Thought we could have lost you for good and that would have been _such _a tragedy."

"_Where?_ Where am I, Merlin?"

"Do you remember what happened?" Merlin obviously skirted the previous question. Arthur was not fooled, even in his dazed state. He could always tell when his manservant was hiding something from him.

"I was shot, you idiot, of course I remember."

"Well, you never know with these serious injuries whether someone could have lost their recollection of the event."

"You sound like you've swallowed one of Ellie's books, what's wrong with you? And where _are _we?" Arthur sat up and froze, his gaze falling upon Gaius who looked at him evenly. "_Gaius_, what are you doing here?" Suddenly, things began to fall into place and he spun round on the bed, his mouth falling open when he realised exactly where he was. "How?!"

"I don't suppose it would help if I said it was all a dream, Arthur, and that none of it ever happened? That you had a bad fall from your horse and have been unconscious for days?"

"No it wouldn't, _Mer_lin, because I know you're a god-awful liar and that none of what you just said is true."

"Hey, I managed to lie to your father."

Arthur did a double take. "_My father_ – my father, you mean to say _my father_ has been here already and seen me like this?"

"Yes, but you're all better now so its fine."

"How?" Arthur repeated his comment from earlier, staring down at the wounds on his chest, expecting the worst and seeing barely anything. His frown deepened.

Merlin wasn't really sure how to explain things. He certainly wasn't going to tell the prince about his magic, not after he'd gotten this far without being discovered. That would just be a waste. After all, he still had a destiny to fulfil now that Arthur wasn't about to cop it. Could he lie again though? Two lies in one day, surely that was pushing it?

"Well, you see, um…you've been out of it for ages and you were fixed up by Nick and Ellie. They have some technology that can do…_that_." He gestured at Arthur's skin. "Then I touched the crystal and that seemed to trigger the leap because we ended up back here."

Arthur looked pacified. For a moment that is before. "Why didn't you consult me before leaving?"

Merlin made a face. "To be honest, sire, you weren't really in a position to be consulted about anything. I thought you wanted to go home, anyway?" As he said the last bit, he looked at his master for a reaction.

Arthur looked torn for a moment. His eyes were tormented and his expression stormy. The hand by his side clenched and unclenched. It looked as if he didn't know how he felt about returning home. That was understandable under the circumstances.

"I guess I did," he finally, said. It sounded like he was having his teeth extracted, the amount of effort and pain those words caused him. "We needed to get home as soon as possible…"

"I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Ellie," Merlin suddenly garbled, desperate to say what he needed to get out of his system. If he didn't then the guilt would consume him.

The blond man looked at him, huge purple circles under his eyes and his face still pale from the trauma he had so recently experienced. He looked so weak and broken and vulnerable. Not words that the young warlock usually associated with his master. There was no way he could remain like this, was there? Slowly, Arthur shook his head.

"I don't blame you, Merlin. I'm not angry at you." He spoke so calmly that Merlin thought that he could be lulling him into a false sense of security. However, that didn't seem the case; he seemed to know exactly what was worrying the manservant and wanted to put him right. "We didn't belong there. We needed to come home. I needed to be here so I could rule my kingdom some day in the future. It was selfish of me to consider….anything else."

Arthur looked pensive.

Unable to stand the tension, Merlin scratched the back of his head and then looked over at Gaius, realising that he hadn't a clue what was going on. He mouthed an 'I'll explain later' to his uncle before turning back to face his dejected friend. Arthur couldn't stay like this, it wasn't his character. He would just have to get over her, or at least try. Of course, Merlin understood that he was deeply hurt but that was life: you got hurt but then you picked yourself up, dusted yourself off and carried on. That's what his mother used to teach him. Perhaps, that was one of the reasons he was so resilient and easy-going.

Merlin knew that although Arthur had experienced a strong love this time, there would be many more romances to come; if the legends he had read were anything to go by. He would also experience more heartbreak but Merlin knew that he would always be there to pick up the pieces. That's what friends were for.

"Arthur?" His voice was soft, questioning. He was pleased when the prince looked at him. At least he hadn't become completely unresponsive. Once he knew he had the young man's attention, he offered him a dazzling grin. "You'll be fine. I know you will. After all, you've still got me."

"And what would any man do without you, Merlin?" Arthur replied, a smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

**Aha, I seem to have stolen some lines from this episode just gone. Oops. Ah well, they fitted. Review, please, and I will be so happy and will write the LAST chapter! **


	26. Last Letters

**Author's Note - And here we have it, guys, the end of the line. Its been great writing this story and I hope you've all enjoyed it. I can't believe we have reached over 300 reviews and that makes me incredibly happy. What an achievement. This story would never have happened without you guys as I wouldn't have been motivated to continue. **

**One final thanks to everyone for reviewing the last chapter: almightyswot, bcargill9, MegElemental, GhibliGirl91, Becca1938, XxBlueSkiesxX, Isis the Sphinx, laurajslr, polissak and Basia Orci. And thanks to everyone for reviewing all the other ones! **

**Shall we get onto the final chapter: A lot of you could probably see this coming but ah well, I might as well have a few predictable parts to my story. I love a (reasonably) happy ending. **

Ellie was working. Well, she wasn't exactly working, she was attempting to work. It didn't help that everyone around her was wrapping her in cotton wool. So far she had had Manuel talking a box of syringes off her, telling her that 'she shouldn't be carrying that', then she'd had one of the nurses querying whether she was feeling okay, suggesting that 'perhaps, she ought to sit down' and finally she'd had Dr. John Pollen himself telling her to go home. She wasn't a frickin' invalid!

She had decided to work and therefore she _would _work. She couldn't just come in and then not do anything on her shifts. That would mean she was getting paid for nothing and that wasn't fair. Besides, if she remained cooped up at home any longer then she would surely go mad. It wasn't good for health to stay still for such a length of time; that wasn't in her personality.

Didn't it say in all those books that it was better for her to remain active anyway?

Standing by the nurses' station, for what must have been the tenth time today, with nothing to do, Ellie sighed to herself. She watched the comings and goings around her: the orderlies wheeling a trolley towards the lift; an old lady slowly making her way to the toilet with the assistance of her Zimmer frame, behind her a worried nurse hovered; one of the young, newly qualified doctors who had recently graduated with her was checking up on a patient.

A lot had changed in the past few months; in the time since Arthur and Merlin left. For one, she'd graduated. That was always a plus. The exams had been hard but she'd managed to scrape by, despite her current predicament. She'd moved out of her student house; it was time for her to get her own place: a rented apartment not far from Alderry Hospital. Alderry Hospital was the place she had managed to get a placement. It meant she didn't have to leave all her old friends – she needed their comfort and support right now.

For the first few days after their departure, Ellie had mourned in the seclusion of her bedroom. Only venturing out in order to go to the loo. She didn't eat and she didn't talk. Everyone had been terribly worried about her. They had even phoned up Nick, who had travelled all the way from Bristol to see her. It was he, and he alone, that managed to coax her from her nest of misery into reality once more.

After all, he reminded her, she needed to go back to work. She had to support herself and her patients. She couldn't just desert her career like that.

So she had returned and everything had been going well - she buried her feelings in mountains of paperwork and worked herself to the brink of exhaustion, working nearly twenty hour shifts. It was after a particularly long shift, when she collapsed from dehydration, exhaustion and malnourishment, that she discovered something that would change her life and her outlook on it completely.

To be honest, it was a miracle that the baby wasn't harmed through all her neglect. The obstetrician had told her that if she'd continued abusing her body for any longer than she would almost certainly have lost it, or at least caused major damage. Fortunately, it seemed to be made of tough stuff. Like its father, one could say.

For Ellie wasn't in any doubt who had sired the babe growing in her womb. It was the man who had been in her life so fleetingly and yet had left a profound effect on her – just one of these being the little tot inside her. Arthur Pendragon, the man from the legend of Camelot, had got her pregnant. How ridiculous was that?

Biology suggested it wasn't. After all, it had been at exactly at the right time of her cycle for insemination – not that she'd realised that, she was terrible at keeping a record of her dates – and they hadn't used protection. They hadn't even thought about it. Well, Ellie hadn't thought about it. Arthur wouldn't have even known what a condom one was if you threw it in his face.

And he could be the only one. As Ben had so kindly pointed out, she hadn't got any in ages.

Right now, leaning on this desk, Ellie was eight months pregnant. It had been difficult to get this point. Unsurprisingly, she'd toyed with abortion. This baby could not only have a huge affect on her career but it would also always serve as a reminder of the man from the past. Could she live with that? There had been some dark days but eventually, she came to the decision that this infant was nothing short of precious and there was no way she could kill it. It was the only bit of Arthur she had left. Besides, she'd never been a massive fan of abortion.

That's why she was about to give birth to a little baby, on her own, living in a rented apartment in the middle of London, with her career just about to take off. Perfect timing.

Her belly was rather round now. Fortunately, she did not seem to be one of those women who swelled to the size of elephants with their pregnancies. Hers, although noticeable, was manageable; she could still just about bend over, if she really tried. Couldn't see her feet though.

Today was her last day before going on maternity leave. She didn't really know what she would do with herself. There was no way she could spend her time just _waiting_; she had to be doing something.

And that something could be what she had been doing for the last eight months; that was searching for the message that Merlin had promised he would leave her, telling her whether Arthur had survived. Every day she thought about it, every day she wondered whether her not finding it meant that Arthur had died and Merlin hadn't had the heart to leave her a message. She truly hoped that wasn't the case. Somehow, although he was so far away and unreachable that he was practically dead, she thought things would somehow be better if he wasn't _actually _dead. Although, she supposed, technically, as he was living a thousand or two years ago, he would be by now. Still! She wanted to know if he had survived the bullet and lived his life out how he should.

She had already visited many of the places in the Arthurian legends to see if that's where Merlin had left the message. They seemed the most likely places: Stonehenge, Tintagel, the supposed grave of King Arthur. _Nothing_. Zilch. It was very frustrating.

What was also frustrating was that she could never send a message to them; Arthur would never know that he had a child that lived a thousand years after him. That saddened Ellie greatly. Still, the legend would live on in the infant she was about to give birth to. She liked to entertain the thought that he or she too, would be infamous and would do great things, like their father. Surely it was in the genes? Then again, her own genes weren't all that special.

"Hey, Ellie." John had appeared from the lift, his hair was sticking up all over the place and his eyes were drooping with tiredness. She supposed it didn't help that it was one o'clock in the morning on a Saturday morning and he had been working in A&E all night. That took a lot out of you.

"John," she grinned at him. "Have you come to rescue me from my boredom and general feeling of being useless?"

"Unfortunately, not," he smiled back, dark eyes suddenly regaining a bit of sparkle, "I've come to tell you to go home. Dr. Howard informs me that she's already told you to go home several times and you won't budge."

"It's my last shift. I want to at least finish it!" Ellie exclaimed, annoyed that her colleague had seen the need to draft in her friend in order to move her.

John looked stern, his brow knotting. "Technically, you shouldn't be working at _eight _months anyway."

"I only have an hour left," Ellie pleaded.

"Exactly, there's no point in you staying. I'm off now, anyway, thank god. I can give you a lift home. You live on Prince Street, right?"

"Yes," the young woman sighed, caving, "I guess if you're leaving now then it would be much easier for me to catch a lift with you than getting the Underground home."

"Definitely," John's face broke into a smile, seeing he had won her over. He did worry about the poor girl sometimes. She was such a little thing and being pregnant had taken a lot out of her. In his opinion, she needed all the help she could get. "Let me grab my coat and we'll go. Meet you out the front?"

"Right."

* * *

Having been dropped off outside her darkened apartments, Ellie hurried up the steps and shoved her keys in the lock, feeling the coldness of the weather on her fingers as she took off her gloves. October always brought a bite with it, signally that winter was truly setting in. Her hands were actually turning blue now, then again, she'd always had bad circulation and her pregnancy wasn't helping matters. Turning the key, the door opened and she shuffled inside, revelling in the slightly warmer hallway. It was only just warmer, cracks around the door frame and gaps in the floorboards still allowed chilly air to whistle through.

Making her way up the staircase to her apartment, which was on the third floor, Ellie cursed the fact that her block had no lift. She wouldn't have usually minded stairs but in her condition, climbing the steps was like climbing Everest. By the time she reached the top she was exhausted and ready to collapse. Finding another key on her jangling set, the one personal to her door, Ellie managed to push her way into the apartment.

It was at times like these, looking upon her dejected, miserable home, that she wished she was back in her student house – at least their her personal space had been warm and cosy. Here, everything was old and rickety: paint peeling, carpet curling up at the edges and going threadbare in some spots, a bed that had several slats missing from beneath it and a cooker that only worked if you lit it five times in a row. Then again, it was all she could afford. All she would ever be able to afford, the way things were going. With a baby to support, she would be even less well-off.

Groaning, she wandered into the kitchen (that doubled as a sitting room, dining room and study all at once) before putting the kettle on. She needed a cup of tea and a shower and then she would go to bed. Hopefully, she wouldn't wake up until ten and then she would decide what to do with herself.

* * *

The phone rang loudly, Ellie moaned in her sleep and, thinking it was her alarm, reached out to whack the sleep button. She misjudged it, however, and ended up smacking the edge of her hand on the hard edge of the clock. It hurt like hell. She yelped in pain and withdrew, clutching her bruised hand to her chest. "Fuck," she swore, softly.

And yet that incessant noise was still going.

Cursing, she dragged herself from her bed, quite an effort now, and winced as she landed on tender ankles. Slowly, she padded over her bare floorboards, avoiding the nails that stuck up from the wood at odd angles, and yanked the phone from its cradle.

"Hello?" she grunted.

"Hi, Ellie, it's Nick. I was phoning to see how you were. Are you okay?" He sounded concerned.

"What the hell time is it?" Ellie spoke, incoherently but her friend understood the gist.

"Its twelve o'clock. Lunchtime." The way he said the last word, Ellie could tell he was smiling down the phone. "I hope you're eating lunch today and not just skipping it. You need to keep your strength up for the baby."

"Geez," she moaned, "Give me a chance. I only just woke up." She couldn't believe she'd slept so late. Obviously she'd needed it though.

"Ah," he chuckled, "That's why you're so grizzly."

"You think?"

"I'd forgotten how snappy you were in the mornings!"

"Time for a revisit then. What do you want? I'm a pregnant, hormonal woman who has had a very long night and didn't really want to be woken up right now."

"Well, I know that you have maternity leave now, thank god, I wasn't sure how longer you would stay working, it's not good for you, anyway, I wondered whether you wanted to come down and visit us? Pippa's show is doing really well, you may have seen it on television and she wants to share her happiness with you."

"Whoop-de-doo."

"No need to sound too enthused."

"Nick, my life is pretty dire at the moment; I'm not sure whether I'll cope with Pippa being ecstatically happy…."

"I know, Ellie, and that's why I want you to come, so we can look after you and cheer you up. I don't like the thought of you all on your own, giving birth to this baby and living in that crummy apartment of yours. Why won't you let me buy you a better place?"

"Because you can't _really _afford it, not on your wages, and it wouldn't seem right."

"Well, just come and stay with us, just for the last month and once the baby is a couple of months old then you can go back. If you want, that is."

"Nick, you don't seriously want a screaming baby ruining what sleep you might get what with your hectic shifts."

Nick sighed. "Ellie, I'm a paediatrician. Little kids are my speciality. I'd love to help. Come on, you know you want to."

There was silence at the other end of the phone. He waited, wondering whether she was about to hang up on him. Then…

"All right. How am I meant to get to you?"

"Er….well," Nick sounded sheepish, "I've already sent a car up to fetch you. It should be arriving in about half an hour."

"You planned this?! You dirty, filthy schemer!" Ellie cried but, honestly, she didn't sound that annoyed.

"Sorry. See you soon. Okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

As it happened, Ellie did actually enjoy her friend's company, it was a relief to have someone happy and optimistic about life. Pippa went on about ratings and awards and advertising and the young pregnant woman was content to listen. It kept her mind off other things. Staying in the Collingridge's pretty plush pad was nice too, compared to her draughty hovel. Nick, bless him, had given up his bed and was sleeping on the sofa (not that it wasn't a damn comfortable sofa). Ellie was living in luxury now. She was glad she came, she had to admit.

They both looked after her; really well, making sure she had three meals a day and was entertained. The young girl wasn't sure how many times she'd read the Harry Potter books by now or the Jane Austen novels. Although Nick was out a lot, with his job, he still found time to take her out on jaunts around the city, shopping for the baby or herself. Not that she could fit in anything she usually could. It was horrible seeing herself in shop mirrors, she looked like a monster.

Pippa had supplied her with the entire series of _Arthur _on DVD which she had pilfered from the director even though it wasn't actually out yet. The series had only just finished airing. It was a kind thought but watching the programme just brought back bad memories and watching the bad acting of the TV 'Arthur' upset her. He would never compare to the real thing.

Pippa had never been told about Merlin and Arthur's background, Nick and Ellie didn't see the point. She would forever remain in the dark; naïve. However, she did know that it was Arthur that was the father of Ellie's unborn child. She just assumed he'd run off. Ellie didn't like that assumption but it was best to go with it, for appearance's sake.

That's why the actress was at a loss every time she came back to find her best friend in floods of tears. She tended to put it down to erratic hormones.

* * *

The baby came early. It wasn't expected for another twenty days but, on the 11th October 2009, a child, sired by the great King Arthur of Camelot himself, was born into the world.

Fortunately, everything had happened very quickly, Ellie's water had broken and within four hours of that, the infant was out, pink and screaming like a piglet. The pain of labour had been immense but as soon as she saw her baby, the young woman forgot about all that, she just stared at the little angel which was blanketed and placed in her arms.

A little boy.

She called him Arthur.

Usually, she frowned upon children being named after their parents. It annoyed her immensely to hear of Bobby Juniors and Charles the thirds. However, this somehow just seemed fitting. This was in _honour _of his father.

From the moment she set eyes on him, she loved him with all her heart. He was hers, her little piece of Prince Arthur.

* * *

Blue eyes, the colour of the sea, blond hair, as fluffy as a chick's down, Arthur was his father's son. He had the face of a cherub, round and soft, with a dazzling smile which he used to charm the old ladies who cooed to him in the street. Somehow, he was already handsome and he hadn't even reached the stage where he could walk.

Today, they were visiting the Wheatfield Manor in the countryside. Ellie wanted to introduce baby Arthur to those who were technically related to him in some, roundabout way. There was another reason she wanted to go, though, and that was because she'd been struck with an idea. It was so simple that she was astonished that she hadn't thought of it before; somehow she had just overlooked it. Now though, she felt sure where she would find Merlin's message.

And that would be in the library.

Upon arriving at the stately home, Ellie desperately wanted to hurry right up to the room but she was restrained by manners and courtesy. First she must present Arthur to Geoffrey and Jemima. They seemed quite taken with him, squeezing his podgy hands and playing with his dinky little toes. Deciding that her child would be quite content in being left with the elderly couple, she excused herself in order to visit the loo. Her course, however, took her to the library.

With her heart in her mouth, she rushed to the lady and began to ascend. What she wouldn't give for Merlin to be here with his magic. Once she had reached the top, she found Merlin's spell book and a selection of other volumes that looked promising – ancient and similarly leather-bound. Carefully, she carried them down to the floor and dropped down beside them. Her pulse quickened with excitement. This could be it.

Gently, she pushed open the first few pages of the spell book. So far, nothing.

Gradually, she scanned more and more pages, looking for the answer. She was getting frustrated, tears welling in her eyes, there was no message. Merlin had lied. Well, he had failed her, anyway. She looked through all the books and there wasn't one single damn clue. Her tears spilt over and trickled down her cheeks. This had been her last hope. The last link that she had with Arthur and Merlin.

In anger, she threw the old book, not caring about its age or fragility. With a loud thwack, it hit a bookcase and hundreds of pages fluttered out, floating to the ground like leaves caught in a whirlpool of wind. That's when she saw the edge of the paper, sticking out from the spine of the book, curled in a tiny, tight scroll. Ellie stared for a moment, wondering whether she was hallucinating.

No, it was truly there. Was this the message?

She leapt forward and snatched the paper up, pulling the last bit from inside the binding. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she unrolled it and read:

_Dear Ellie, _

_I hope this reaches you. It's probably a long shot but I promised that I would send a message to you and so I've tried my best. This spell book was my best bet; I knew you'd seen it so I hoped you would realise. _

_Anyway, I will say what I'm sure you want to hear and that is that Arthur is alive. Well, I suppose he isn't alive in your time – long dead – but you understand my statement. I managed to heal him using my magic. Though, perhaps, you shouldn't tell him that. Not that you could…_

_I'm not sure whether you want to hear this, whether it will bring you misery or respite, but Arthur has pined for you. He wouldn't admit that you were troubling him but I knew. He doesn't give me enough credit for my intuitiveness. Forever underestimated. Maybe that will change in time. We shall see. _

_Enough of my rambling. I just hope that you are well - and the baby. In case you are wondering how I know, let's call it a warlock's sense. I sort of knew as soon as it had happened, I wouldn't be able to explain how I knew but I did. However, I also knew that it would be a mistake to tell either of you. A pregnancy would definitely make things even harder than they already were. I have told Arthur, in case you're wondering, he will tell you more in his own letter; I'm sure. I won't intrude on his feelings when I'm sure he will express them much better than I. _

_You shall find his letter, not in this library, but under the willow tree which we hid under, it's been there all these years. He has buried it, along with a gift for you and the baby. _

_It was an honour to meet you, Ellie, and give my regards to Nick and Pippa. _

_Love Merlin _

Ellie stared at the letter in her hands, her eyes wide with shock. He had _known_. That was unbelievable. And he didn't say a word. She didn't know whether to angry or thankful. Merlin was correct; it would have made things near impossible. Things were better this way. And if Arthur knew then she need not worry about that.

With the promise of another letter, this time from Arthur, Ellie couldn't help but leap to her feet and hurry from the room. She immediately saddled a horse and, with baby Arthur strapped to her chest in a sling, she set out for the willow tree, excitement and anticipation coursing through her veins. Geoffrey and Jemima were a bit bewildered by her actions but they posed few questions.

She soon arrived at the willow tree. Ducking beneath the umbrella of leaves brought back memories, mostly bad, but she quashed those. She needed to focus on the letter. Thank goodness she'd remembered to bring a spade.

After a lengthy time digging in several random spaces beneath the tree, Ellie was sweating profusely, perspiration dripping down her nose and off the tip to drop in the churned up soil below. Despite the chilly weather, she was boiling hot, red in the face with her arms aching. Where on earth was this letter…

_Thunk._

The metal edge of her spade made contact with something hard and her heart leapt with excitement. Digging furiously, she revealed the wooden lid of a chest. On it was emblazoned a coat of arms – a golden, fire breathing dragon. She was in no doubt who it could belong to.

With a lot of effort, she hauled the heavy crate from the hole and placed it with a hefty thud on the earth. Arthur, who had been laying on a blanket a metre away, gurgled in surprise. His little legs kicked into the air in annoyance because he could not see what was going on and had no means of moving himself.

"Its all right, Arthur, Mummy's just found what she was looking for. We should be hearing from your daddy in a moment."

Fortunately, the prince had had the foresight not to lock the chest as Ellie would have been stuck without a key, so she could just click it open. Tentatively, she pushed up the lid. Inside, it was piled high with gold coins and diamond encrusted trinkets. The young woman gasped in astonishment. When he had said a gift….she had never expected this! She would be set for life. Then again, she supposed that was the point.

A scroll, tied with a red ribbon, rested on top of the treasure. Ellie grabbed it and unravelled it. She physically _needed _to know what Arthur had said.

_Dearest Ellie, _

_I am terrible at writing letters. I'm sure that Merlin, my practically illiterate manservant, has managed to express his thoughts better than I can on paper. _

_I am not really certain what to say. Is there anything I could say to make this situation better? I don't really think so. I doubt either of us would have expected to develop feelings for each other let alone have a baby. I hope he or she is well. I would have loved to meet them. I'm sure you will bring them up well and they will be a child to be proud of, however distant. It kills me that I can't be there to support you both._

_Merlin has probably told you that I have recovered from my wounds. I think I have you to thank for that and your technologies. I barely have any scarring. I hope that you know that I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, if I had had the choice. As it was, I guess what happened was the only option. _

_Here come the feelings. How do I make you understand how I feel? Well, I feel like a piece of my heart is missing with you not here. I know that I will have to marry, apparently a handmaiden according the Merlin – I don't know where he gets these ideas from – but I will never forget you. And I hope you will not forget me either. _

_That was terrible, I know, but it was the best I could do. I love you more than anything and would do anything to protect you and our child, if only you were not so far away. _

_Live your life in happiness. _

_Yours,_

_Arthur Pendragon _

Ellie nodded to herself, salty tears dribbling down her cheeks and onto the paper. She reached over and gathered her son to her breast, cuddling him tightly. They would be all right. She knew they would.

**And there we have it. Sorry there was no Merlin and Arthur. I thought they were nicely rounded off last chapter. **

**Hope you realised the significance of Little Arthur's birthday (and didn't hate me too much for calling him Arthur). 11th October is not only today but also Bradley James' birthday. Thought I'd pop that in there. Not that he _is _Bradley. **

**Look out for my future fics. I will try and post them ASAP. **

**Love you guys! xxx See ya soon!!!!!!!!!!**

**P.S. Btw, can you review this last chapter too? It would make me soooo happy! Tell me what you thought of the whole thing. x**


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